Merthur's Twelve Days of Yuletide
by TheDailyKnight
Summary: Merthur, AU, Chronology ignored. It is Yule in Camelot and Merlin has been away in Ealdor visiting Hunith before the holidays. On returning to Camelot, he spends Yule with Arthur. This is the story of what they get up to, spread across twelve chapters. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas! As usual, all rights belong to the relevant parties and I am just playing with the guys.
1. Chapter 1

**Merthur's Twelve Days of Yuletide**

**Day 1:**

Arthur shifted his weight carefully and looked down at the road below. It was covered in snow, knee-deep in places. He smiled. Although he was cold, he knew for certain that Merlin hadn't been through here yet on his way back from Ealdor. He had gone to visit Hunith on the run-up to the holiday, but had promised to spend Yule itself with Arthur.

Arthur always disliked having Merlin go away from any length of time, but especially so when he'd been gone for two whole weeks. There was only _so_ much a guy could do to keep his urges at bay himself, after all. But, groinal longings aside, Arthur was missing Merlin severely. He missed the banter, the smile and the cheekiness that his hopelessly gawky manservant brought into his life. Merlin was the only man who had ever stolen his heart so completely that he felt crushed whenever he thought that they would not work out which, these last few weeks, was alarmingly often.

He smiled to himself a little. He supposed it was this feeling that had him as giddy as a teenager on a first date again, and which had led him to believe that hiding in a tall old oak tree to catch a glimpse of his lover walk by underneath had been a good idea. Just to see him, mind you. Only to see what he was like when he thought Arthur wasn't looking. And, when he was done, he'd sneak back to Camelot via a shortcut he knew through the forest and arrive before Merlin and greet him at the gates. He didn't want Merlin to think that he was _too_ eager to see him again.

Then there was also the small matter of the presents. He wanted to show Merlin how much he loved him, but couldn't decide how. There seemed to be several things that he could give Merlin for Yule that he knew Merlin would probably like, but _choosing _had been a nightmare. In the end, he'd reasoned, being Prince Arthur meant that he didn't _have_ to choose at all and had therefore bought all of them, and then thrown in a few surprises of his own as well. He hoped that Merlin would like the overall effect.

The sound of crunching footfalls in the distance made him crouch against the tree trunk and huddle back out of sight, hidden not by leaves for the tree was hibernating, but by the sheer copiousness of the branches. These, he reasoned, would break up his outline enough that he would be very hard to spot indeed. Adding to that, the sky overhead was pregnant with yellowish-grey snow clouds, indicating that it would soon snow very heavily indeed. Against this sky, the grey of his chainmail would make him even trickier to see.

He waited patiently, a state of affairs that Merlin, if he'd have heard about it later, would never believe. In Merlin's view, the words "patient" and "Prince Arthur" fitted together in precisely the same way that "nettles" and "nakedness" don't. This is why, moments later, Merlin crested the top of the tree-covered hill without suspecting a thing.

He stopped at the top and fished around in the huge bag he was carrying on his back. Arthur, curious to see what he was doing, leaned forward a little way and frowned as Merlin pulled out two long, thin planks of smooth wood which were curved upward at one end. He placed the planks on the ground, side-by-side, fished in the bag again, and drew out two sticks which came up to his hip.

He slipped his feet into the crude shoes that had been fastened to the planks and got his balance. He looked ahead for the first time and saw Camelot ahead in the distance. It was downhill all the way from here, he knew as he took a deep, bracing breath. This was going to be fun. It would get him back to Camelot faster than walking _and_ he couldn't wait to see people's faces when he skidded up to the gates. This was definitely one of his better ideas. He couldn't think why people hadn't thought of it before.

He shrugged to himself and pushed off with the sticks.

Arthur gasped as Merlin tucked himself down, his angles now looking perfectly natural as he slid over the surface of the snow, picking up speed as he went on the downhill slope. He cheered loudly in excitement as he whizzed under the branch that Arthur was perched on and disappeared around a bend in the track.

Arthur crouched there with his mouth wide open in astonishment. Did he _really_ just see what he thought he'd seen? _Damn it_! That was Merlin for you! Always full of surprises when you least expected them. Couldn't he be normal, boring and predictable when it mattered? What was wrong with walking, for heaven's sake?

He jumped out of the tree and started running as fast as he could along his short-cut. If Merlin didn't crash into anything on his way, he might _just_ be able to beat him to the castle, if he hurried.

He heard a cry of joy somewhere to his left, a flurry of snow fell on him from an overhang, and Merlin shot overhead, his limbs crouched, the planks of wood back, ready to land on the other side of the path. Arthur threw himself sideways as his manservant crashed down a little way off, turned sharply, and shot off down the shortcut without noticing him.

_Damn it_!

Arthur found himself wishing he'd never taken Merlin out in the woods as often as he had done as he tried to run after him. But it was no use. As he broke cover from the trees, he could see that Merlin was already halfway across the open plain that stretched out before Camelot. There was no way Arthur would catch up to him now.

He leaned against the trunk of a tree as he watched Merlin weave, circle and leap, clearly having the time of his life. As he watched, he couldn't help but grin. As frustrated as he was that his plan had been thwarted, he had to admit he loved seeing Merlin enjoying himself.

Free from any restraints, Merlin was like a thing possessed. He didn't notice that Arthur had made his way up behind him until he heard Arthur cough from a distance away. He looked, grinned, skidded over and stopped just in front of him. He grabbed him in a huge, undignified hug and kiss partly to stop himself falling over, but mostly because he was just so happy to see his Prince again.

If Merlin had a tail, Arthur found himself thinking as they broke apart, he would be wagging it like a puppy who had found the castle kitchens and who just _knows_ that the banquet has been left there unattended. It was that kind of enthusiasm: very happy, but also oh-so-slightly nervous about being caught doing something he thought he maybe shouldn't be.

"I'm back!" exclaimed Merlin, totally unnecessarily, throwing his arms wide. "Did you miss me?"

"I noticed," replied Arthur, dryly. "What are those?"

He pointed at the planks of wood on Merlin's feet.

"Do you like them?" asked Merlin, grinning. "I haven't named them yet. I just invented them on the way here. At home, we use bits of wood like this to bridge frozen lakes and I thought, why can't I make a slippery version, so I tried and, well, here they are! Would you like a go, Sire?"

"When your sweaty feet have been in them? No."

"No, no, no!" exclaimed Merlin. "Why would I want your huge cloppers in my pair? They'd never fit!"

He rummaged around in the bag on his back as Arthur said, "Are you saying I have big feet?"

"It's not a bad thing, Sire," replied Merlin. "At least it's easier for you to walk in snow."

"Merlin, I do _not_ have big feet."

"You know what they say: Men with big feet have big- aha! Found them!"

"I trust that you were about to say 'responsibilities'," said Arthur as he watched Merlin take out another set of planks with bigger shoes fitted to them.

"Naturally," replied Merlin, handing the wooden planks to him. "What else could I possibly be talking about?"

His feigned innocence fooled Arthur not one bit though.

"I made you a set too," said Merlin sheepishly. "A gift for Yuletide. Go on, try them."

Arthur smiled as he took the planks and lay them down.

"Thanks, Merlin," he said as he took off his boots and passed them to Merlin to hold.

He slipped his feet into the soft leather shoes on the wooden planks and fastened them tightly. He stood up.

"Are you ready?" asked Merlin, placing Arthur's boots into his bag.

"No."

"Then here we go!"

Merlin guided Arthur into a slow glide then let go. He drifted a little way before his legs began to part.

"Skiiii!" he exclaimed as he fell over onto his bottom.

Merlin glided effortlessly over to him.

"Are you alright?"

"I have a bruised ego, but I'm otherwise fine," replied Arthur.

"I think I know what to call them now," said Merlin.

"And what's that?" asked Arthur, picking himself up.

"Skis, after the noise you made when you fell over."

"It's a good name," replied Arthur. "But don't you ever let it slip how I named them, ok? Let's try again."

As the sun set and after an afternoon of play involving many tumbles, Prince Arthur and Merlin finally glided up to the gates of Camelot to be greeted by the guards. They looked suitably impressed as they walked, crab-like, up through the main town, then slid back down with people watching just for the hell of it, before walking back up again.

By the time they reached the castle's main entrance, everybody in town wanted to know where they could get a pair, including Arthur's knights. Many were disappointed to learn that they could only be made, but things improved once Arthur spoke to the castle's carpenter about making several sets for the citizens that he could sell in his shop. Arthur had gone from not being at all impressed to loving them.

Having changed back into their normal shoes, each of them carried their new skis up to Arthur's room, slung over one shoulder.

The heat in Arthur's room was intense as he opened the door. In Merlin's absence, George had been seconded to keep Arthur's room tidy. It had been made spotless, but that was mostly because Arthur had spent as little time in there as possible, knowing that George would be hovering around there if he knew he was in. As it was, he was not there at this moment. As usual, George had done his job well. There were two meals on the table, a roaring fire in the grate, the room was spotless, the bed was turned down and a hot bath steamed in the corner.

Even Merlin was impressed.

"Could you order him to sort my room out for me too?" he asked as they stripped and slipped into the bath to warm up.

"Do you really want him there all day?" asked Arthur, cuddling up next to Merlin in the warm water.

"I don't mind as long as I'm not," replied Merlin, which caused Arthur to laugh.

"Merlin, don't be so mean."

"What? You don't like him much either."

"Yes, but he _is_ good at what he does, unlike some people I know."

He glanced at Merlin with a cheeky glint in his eye.

"Really?"

"No. You're much more than he is in other ways. You may be a hopeless manservant, but you're a great lover. I missed you when you were gone."

"Thanks. Which reminds me – I meant to ask you: where were you today? I assume you were out for a reason?"

Arthur felt the blush rise on his cheeks.

"I was waiting in an old oak tree, watching out for you," he confessed. "I wanted to catch a glimpse of you without me and see how you behave."

"You were spying on me," said Merlin in amusement.

"No!" retorted Arthur. "Nothing so seedy. I just... wanted to see if you change how you act when I'm around."

"Well, of course I do," replied Merlin. "I become me again instead of us. I'm still the same person, but I don't have to keep such a formal presence going."

"I make you formal?"

"No, Camelot and the court make me formal... or more formal than I usually am, anyhow. Sometimes I just like a break from it. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"So, have you got a welcome home present for me since I got you a gift?"

Arthur pulled him tightly against him and kissed him passionately.

"It's on the bed," he murmured as he got up and guided Merlin out of the bath.

Merlin glanced over at it as they dried each other off.

"I don't see anything."

Arthur grinned.

"That's because I'm not on it yet."

Merlin sighed and shook his head in amusement.

"You're my present?"

"Whenever you want to unwrap me, I'm yours."

"Where's the bow and ribbon?"

"I forgot to wrap myself."

"I can see that," replied Merlin with a grin. "Tell me," he added, running a finger playfully over Arthur's chest, "what do I do with my gift?"

Arthur smiled, slightly shyly.

"Anything you like," he replied.


	2. Chapter 2

**Day 2:**

The sun was streaming in through the window when Merlin opened his eyes the next day. Arthur lay in a cocoon of blankets which he'd stolen in the night and Merlin was freezing. It was a crime that Merlin sometimes referred to as 'Illicit Blanketry' and was usually punishable by being booted out of bed. Not that Arthur would be happy if he did and there was something so damn cute about Arthur as he slept.

He checked himself. No, that was just too soppy for him. What _really_ attracted him to watching Arthur in his sleep was the novelty of being able to admire him while he kept still and, most rarely of all, was silent.

So, instead, he considered attempting to rescue a corner of them to keep himself warm, but decided against it after a moment's thought. Arthur was so snug and comfortable that he'd be pissed if he was unrolled now.

Merlin got out of bed and padded quietly to the window. Frost covered it so that he could barely see through it. He unhooked its fastening and opened it a little. An Arctic blast of wind shivered its way across his bare chest and curled its way insidiously between his legs, causing is balls to rise up away from it. A few feet away, it found the slumbering Prince.

"Merlin, shut the window," mumbled Arthur. "It's cold out there."

Merlin obeyed as Arthur rolled over and gazed over at him groggily.

"What time is it?"

"I guess about an hour after sunrise," replied Merlin, walking calmly over to Arthur's wardrobe.

He opened the doors, fished out an outfit for him and waited as Arthur got out of bed and allowed himself to be dressed.

Once Merlin had also got his clothes on, they left the room and wandered down into the courtyard. A short way away, some children dashed away from something, laughing. Arthur stopped dead in his tracks as he saw what they had been running away from.

Merlin closed his eyes and tried to stifle a chuckle. He failed miserably. When he opened his eyes again, the vision was still there and he creased up laughing.

In the middle of the courtyard stood a snowman. It was covered in a red cloak and wore purple gloves. A shredded yellow cloth had been draped over the top of its head to look like hair and, on top of that, a makeshift crown of weaved silver twigs had been placed. A sword poked from its other hand and the words 'Mery Yool Prins Arfa' had been marked out in sticks at its feet.

Merlin hardly dared move. He stared at the thing and found himself suddenly thankful that the wording didn't say 'King Uther' instead. He risked a sideways glance at Arthur. He stood there, with his face composed into an unreadable expression.

"Now, that's something you don't see every day," said Merlin, carefully testing this newest of new waters.

They wandered closer to it and Arthur surveyed it critically. It stood a few feet from a vegetable cart which Merlin found himself suddenly itching to investigate.

"Where are my trousers?" asked Arthur eventually.

"Your cloak usually hides them," replied Merlin, risking a grin. "I guess the kids must think that you don't wear any."

"But you know otherwise."

"Yeah. I know that they have a habit of vanishing in my presence."

Arthur cuffed him gently around the back of the head, threw his head back and started to laugh. It was a deep, merry sound which Merlin found very relieving. He loosened up again.

"I haven't got a nose," he chuckled.

Merlin grinned, bent down, picked up a sizeable carrot from the vegetable cart and winked at him.

"Shall I put one on for you, Sire?"

"No," replied Arthur. "I know where _you_ would put it. Give it to me."

Merlin handed the carrot over with a cheeky grin and suggestive flourish that made Arthur's cheeks grow hot. He put the carrot onto the snowman's face and stepped back.

He chuckled to himself for a moment before he felt something tugging the back of his robe. He turned and looked, then looked down.

A small girl, about five years old by his guess, stood nervously behind him, his robe in her hand.

He kneeled down until he was at head height with her.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Do you like it?" she asked, twisting half of her body around nervously, biting on the finger of her other hand as she did so.

"It's very nice," replied Arthur. "Did you make it?"

She nodded shyly.

"Thank you," replied Arthur with a smile. "I'll remember it forever."

"The gloves are for you," she said shyly. "But you can't have the robe. My daddy is a Knight. He needs it. And the sword."

Arthur chuckled.

"Thank you... what's your name?"

"Lissa."

"Thank you, Lissa," said Arthur. "May I take them now, or do I have to wait until Yuletide Day?"

Lissa thought about this carefully.

"Have you been a good boy this year?" she asked eventually.

Merlin stuffed a fist into his mouth and bit his knuckles. Arthur looked up at his silent fit of laughter, rolled his eyes, and turned his attention back to Lissa.

"I promise I have."

"Only if you haven't, my daddy says that there's a big old ogre up in the mountains that'll come down and eat your eyeballs all up!"

"I promise I haven't seen him, and if I do, I'll hit him on the head for you."

Lissa giggled.

"Oh, okay!" she exclaimed. "You can have them now then!"

With that, she turned and ran off through the deep snow towards home. Arthur stood up again and turned to Merlin.

"_I've_ been a good boy this year too, Sire," he teased. "What do _I_ get?"

Arthur removed the gloves from the snowman and turned back to him, smiling.

"Merlin, _you_ only score points if you've been a _bad_ boy. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly, Sire," said Merlin, bending down.

He picked up some of the snow in his hands, stood up and hurled the snowball at Arthur. It caught him on the side of his neck, causing him to jump. Merlin backed away, a wicked grin on his face as Arthur bent down and grabbed a handful of snow himself.

"Merlin," he called as Merlin took to his heels, "you _will_ live to regret doing that!"

"Only if you catch me!" called back Merlin.

Arthur took a breath and felt the joy surge through him. He would enjoy making Merlin suffer for this one. He threw the snowball, missed, and put on the gloves. They were a little damp and chilly, but that didn't matter. Merlin didn't have gloves and his hands would get colder faster. Then, boy wouldn't his manservant know about revenge.

He chased off after Merlin and before long they were both engaged in a fierce snowball fight that they would both later admit was the best one they had ever had.


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 3:**

It was midnight when Arthur and Merlin finally entered Arthur's bedchamber, tired and aching. Their fun in the snow had lasted most of the morning, and court and chores had taken up the rest of their time. After court, they had met up and decorated the Great Hall and most of the corridors with holly, ivy and various shiny trinkets that were customary for the time of year.

They'd had a lot of help from the servants, but it was customary for Arthur to oversee the event and help out with hanging the heavier decorations. Because these days Arthur could hardly ever be seen without Merlin, the tradition seemed to have evolved somewhat. It now tended to include a lot of Merlin saying things like, "left a bit, right a bit, up, down, wait, _oh, you nearly had it then_, try again!", with Prince Arthur balancing himself and a large hanging ornament precariously at the top of a ladder.

This year, the castle cats had been no help whatsoever. One - a large, brown tom who had been named, inexplicably, 'Bonnie' by Morgana - had shot up the ladder in fright at an ornament being dropped. It would have been alright if it had only confined itself to the ladder, but for some reason it had also seen fit to scale Arthur's trouser leg and hang on to him tightly at groin level. It had hung there, Merlin recalled, like a vile-tempered, hissing, overgrown mound of badly-combed pubic hair until Merlin had managed to conjure it down again. As Arthur later said, only Morgana would have ever owned a cat like that one.

By the servants, this was considered as much a part of the Yuletide entertainment as the Great Yuletide Feast, a twelve-day extravaganza of food, drink and merriment. Many secretly hoped that when Arthur became King, Merlin would still have him balanced at the top of a ladder once a year for all to enjoy the sight of. Merlin himself didn't have any doubts about this at all. If he had his way (and if Arthur knew by then how to keep him happy), Arthur would be doing this task until it became ritual and couldn't be argued with. Maybe future Princes, Kings and their Manservants would also be expected to perform it. Now that would be worth being remembered for.

Arthur slipped into bed, not bothering with the bath that Merlin had not prepared. They'd both been too busy. He'd worry about taking one in the morning.

Merlin reached the bed, turned around and fell backwards exaggeratedly onto it, his arms outstretched, his head landing on Arthur's chest. He turned his head and smiled up at the blond, who was just about managing to keep his eyes open.

"I'm exhausted!" he declared to the world in general.

Arthur nodded sleepily and made a _mmm-hmm_ kind of noise.

"But I enjoyed putting up the decorations," decided Merlin to the room. "You look good from below, did you know that?"

"You should know," murmured Arthur.

"The servants enjoyed it too, I think," continued Merlin.

Arthur groaned. Merlin, tired though he was, didn't seem to be in the mood for sleeping just yet.

He reached behind him, fumbled for a pillow, picked it up and groggily tossed it at Merlin. It hit him on the head and stayed there.

"M'ln, g't'slee."

Merlin took the hint and crawled under the blankets to spoon against his Prince. A few kisses was all he got before Arthur drifted off. Trying not to feel too disappointed, Merlin nodded off next to him. He would get his own back in the morning, he thought, smiling to himself.

The next day was grey and overcast. A bitter chill filled the castle as fresh snow fell heavily outside, almost causing a whiteout. Merlin had got up early with cold feet and had stoked a roaring fire in the hearth at the foot of the bed. He hated cold feet, but it fitted in with his plan for the morning nicely. If Arthur was going to aim pillows at him, he'd better be ready for a counter-attack.

He grinned devilishly at the wooden box in his hand. He had found it at the foot of the bed when he'd woken up. The words, "For Merlin, Love Arthur," had been written on a label attached to it. He'd opened it to find two beautiful, long, fluffy quills and one shorter, firmer one, together with pots of red, green and black ink. Arthur had brought him a writing set for Yule.

He'd been touched, and had been about to wake Arthur up and thank him when he'd noticed his Prince's bare feet poking out from beneath the blankets and had remembered the pillow attack the night before. With a new set of feathers in his hands and Arthur so easily presenting himself, it hadn't taken long for him to work out his revenge attack.

He shivered in excitement as he made his way silently to the bed and allowed his eyes to flash gold. In an instant, the drapes fell from the bed and snaked their way around Arthur's wrists and ankles. By the time Arthur had opened his eyes, however, it was already too late. He struggled in panic for a moment as he realised he was bound, until he spotted Merlin grinning at him. His heart skipped a beat as he realised that the grin Merlin was wearing was not wholly innocent.

"Good morning, Sire," said Merlin, leaning over and planting a searing kiss on his lips. "A little tied up this morning, are we?"

"What are you playing at, Merlin?" asked Arthur, a smile working its way across his lips.

"Payback."

"For?"

"Hitting me with a pillow last night."

"But, that was a joke."

"So is this, in its way."

Merlin licked his lips and pulled the box out from where he'd been concealing it behind his back.

"Thank you for your present," he murmured, getting onto the bed to straddle his lover's chest. "They're just what I wanted."

"I... I'm glad," managed Arthur as Merlin's erect manhood rubbed against his chest. "I thought you might like them to write down the spells you know. I know how complex some of them sound and I thought, rather than relying on your memory, you could create a spell book of your own."

"Uther would not approve," replied Merlin.

"He doesn't really approve of you and me anyway," replied Arthur. "Things will be different when I am King. I promised you that."

"Nevertheless, until it is safe, I am not going to use them for writing spells," replied Merlin, "but they do have one other, very handy use indeed."

"And what is that?" asked Arthur, genuinely intrigued.

"This," replied Merlin, and opened the box lid.

It happened so fast that Arthur had no time to react. The quills flew from their box, feather-end first. Two set to work on the soles of his bare feet and one set to work on his armpits, dashing between one and the other so that Arthur had no time to get used to it. He bucked and shrieked with laughter as Merlin held him down.

"What... wh... what... did...I... do?" he howled as the tickling intensified.

"Remember that pillow?"

"Y...Y...Yes!" managed Arthur.

"You hit me with it last night. You were a bad Prince. This is my revenge."

Arthur gasped and thrashed, gripping the edge of the bed tightly, straining to pull himself up and away from the torment. Merlin grinned down as his face went red and tears of laughter began to fall down his cheeks.

"Are you sorry?" asked Merlin after a while.

Arthur, breathless beyond words, nodded frantically. Merlin's eyes flashed golden and the three quills stopped their torment. All that could be heard in the room were Arthur's gasps for breath. After a while they began to settle down. Merlin brushed the sweaty blond curtain of hair out of Arthur's eyes and gazed down at him. He leaned down and kissed the tender, exposed neck, causing Arthur to gasp.

Simultaneously, he reached behind himself and uncovered Arthur's swollen manhood. He stroked his finger along the length of it as Arthur stared up at him, a dumb grin plastered on his face.

"It seems that my Prince likes being tickled first thing in the morning," teased Merlin.

He allowed his eyes to flash golden again. The bonds that held Arthur released.

Arthur uncoiled like a spring, pushing Merlin backwards onto the bed and pinning him there, his manhood pressed against Merlin's hole. Merlin gasped as Arthur quickly oiled himself up and pushed inside without warning. He attacked Merlin's neck with rough kisses as he began to pound his manservant, making him yell his pleasure to the rafters. Merlin was going to scream out this time, and he didn't care who in the castle heard them.

"No, Merlin," he replied between grunts as his hips pummelled his manhood into his jellified lover, his words audible over Merlin's cries of happiness, "your Prince does _not_ like to be tickled first thing in the morning. Your Prince likes to _fuck you_, Merlin, first thing in the morning. What does your Prince like to do to you, Merlin?"

"He... oh, God! He likes... He..."

"Say it, Merlin!"

"He... he likes to _fuck me_ first thing in the morning!"

"Good. Learn it and take it, Merlin! Do you like taking it, Merlin?"

"God, YES!"

"Shout it out then, Merlin. Shout out, "I want you to fuck me harder, Sire!""

Merlin yelled it out and Arthur obliged, loving the feeling of power that Merlin had so completely ceded to him. He knew as well as Merlin that a flash of those eyes would be all it would take to end this encounter, that Merlin was completely capable of it, but that he was enjoying this too much to do it.

He reached over and picked up one of the quills, which he pushed between them, stroking the length of Merlin's manhood with it. Merlin yelped and shuddered at the new sensation.

"You see, Merlin, _I_ know what to do with my gifts too," he said. "Did you really think I got them _just_ for you to write with?"

Merlin made a noise that sounded something like 'yglfmeeyaah' as his head was half buried in a pillow that was being bitten hard.

A few more hard thrusts was all it took. Merlin stiffened, yelled out and came. At the same time, Arthur released himself into his lover. Each gripped the other tightly as they rode the wave of pleasure before it subsided and Arthur laid Merlin down gently on his back, pulling out to lie next to him.

Merlin cuddled up to him tightly and Arthur held him in an embrace. They both shivered from the intensity of their lovemaking. After a short while they fell asleep in one another's arms.


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 4:**

"Merr-liiin! Where are you?"

Arthur's voice filled the air as he strode across the courtyard. He'd been looking for Merlin for at least the last half an hour and couldn't find him anywhere. He leaned against a cart and peered upward at the roof. He hadn't expected what he'd see there and the sight of it made him start.

Merlin was hanging by one arm from the edge of a ledge, his legs kicking as he tried to get them up. Something had gone wrong.

"Merlin!"

"Hold on! I'll be down in a minute!"

"That's what I'm worried about!" exclaimed Arthur, rushing over to him. "How the _hell_ did you get up there?"

"It's a long story," called back Merlin. "Is anybody else around?"

"No, they're all at the feast!" called Arthur, his voice taut with worry.

"Good. Ignore me for a moment, would you?"

"Merlin, why?"

Merlin tutted loudly. "Can't you ever do anything I ask?"

"Okay, fine! I'll ignore my lover while he's hanging from a ledge at roof level! Fine! Whatever you say!"

"Just turn around. I'll tell you when you can look."

Reluctantly, Arthur turned. There was a whooshing noise behind him, then silence. Somebody tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around in alarm.

Merlin grinned at him, a broom clutched in his right hand.

"Okay, how did you do that?" asked Arthur, genuinely puzzled. "You should be worm chow by now. It looks like you can't even get that right."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," replied Merlin with a grin. "Look what I have for us."

He flourished the broom and grinned. Arthur stared at it in confusion.

"What has this got to do with anything?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, hooked Arthur onto his arm and walked them out of the castle. He ignored Arthur's protests as he walked him through the town and out across the snow-covered fields to the edge of the forest.

"Merlin, would you please tell me what is going on?"

"I'll do better than that," replied Merlin, setting to broom into a hover beside them. "I'll show you. Jump on."

"What?"

"Jump on," repeated Merlin, mounting the broom himself. "It's perfectly safe."

"Merlin, I am the Crown Prince of Camelot!" exclaimed Arthur. "_I can't be seen flying a broomstick_! What would Father say?"

Merlin shrugged. "Well, if you want to miss out on the fun..."

Merlin took off and did three low laps around the treetops before he skidded to a halt next to Arthur, kicking up snow as he did so.

"Are you coming?"

"Where to?"

"Somewhere..."

"Merlin, I _can't_ be unaccounted for. Nobody knows where I am."

"Yes they do, Silly Sausage," replied Merlin, smiling. "I told Gwaine that you would be out with me this afternoon."

"You did what?"

"I reported your absence this afternoon in advance."

"But my Father will be worried that I'm missing the feast!"

"Oh, I cleared it with him, too," replied Merlin. "Or, at least, Gaius did. He's fine with it."

"Did you happen to tell him about the broomstick riding part of it?"

"He didn't ask me if there would be one involved, if that's what you mean. The less said the better, I thought. In fact, he distinctly said that he didn't care what we got up to as long as we were discreet about it."

"And flying on a broomstick is discreet because..."

"Because we'll be too high up for anyone to see us," replied Merlin. "Honestly, Arthur, there are snow clouds covering the whole Kingdom! We'll be in them in no time. Come on, have some fun with me."

Arthur sighed.

"If we get caught, I'll personally skin you before the King executes you. You do understand, don't you?"

He swung his leg over the broom behind Merlin.

"And who said love was dead?" murmured Merlin to himself.

"I heard that."

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, hold on."

"Where?"

"I'll let you work that out."

Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin's waist.

"Good, now, raise your legs."

Arthur grumbled a little but did as he was told. The broom, now free of the ground, bobbed and drifted sideways.

"Merlin, I hope you know how to fly this thing," said Arthur as Merlin corrected the movement.

"I've never done it with more than me, but look at it this way: there's a first time for everything."

With that, he clipped the underside of the broom with his foot and they shot into the air. Seconds later they were enveloped in cloud and still rising. It took only a few cold, damp minutes before they breached the top and emerged into brilliant, but chilly, sunshine. Merlin tilted the broom to the right and flew off, being careful to avoid any holes in the cloud cover.

Behind him, in spite of himself, Arthur cheered.

They had been flying for only ten minutes before Merlin lowered the broom and brought them in for a shallow landing on a hilltop, miles from any form of civilisation. Smoke rose from a fire at the top of it on which a goose was roasting on a spit which was turning itself.

"Merry Yule," said Merlin as they dismounted and he led Arthur over to the fire. "From me to you, a bit of free time, some space where we don't have to worry about the council or the demands of Camelot. We can just relax and be ourselves for a change."

Despite the unorthodox travelling method, Arthur beamed.

"You did this all for me?"

"I came here last night to set it all up," confessed Merlin, slightly sheepishly.

"I wondered where you had gone," replied Arthur as Merlin pulled out some dishes.

A flash of his eyes made the well-cooked meat fall off the bones of the bird onto the plate which hovered beneath. It returned to him and he levitated it onto a nearby flat boulder. They sat down cross-legged opposite one another on a laid out blanket as Merlin dished out the meat and conjured some fruit and cooked vegetables from where he had hidden them, covered, in a disused badger sett earlier.

Finally he extracted a jug of wine from the hollow of a dead tree stump, along with some goblets, and served the meal.

Arthur had to admit, he was impressed. Nothing could have prepared him for this. He said as much as they began to eat.

"Well, it's nothing, really," replied Merlin, blushing. "I just planned it well. It was Gwen's idea, really. She said I should take you off somewhere and spend some time with you away from the pressure of daily life. She likes us being together, you know."

"So how did you end up dangling from the rooftop?"

"I was trying to land the broom without you noticing me and I misjudged the window," confessed Merlin. "That part wasn't planned. I wasn't going to bring you out here for another hour or so, but since the opportunity presented itself, I thought I would take it.

"Do you know, I think you may be the first Prince ever to have flown to a Royal Engagement?"

"That's a rather grand term, isn't it, Merlin?"

"Why?" shrugged Merlin. "You're the Prince and Royal, I'm your lover. By dint of you being here, this is a Royal Engagement."

"I suppose you're right," replied Arthur, who picked up a goose breast and beckoned to Merlin.

Merlin scooted up against him and allowed Arthur to feed him some of the tender meat, a gesture which he reciprocated happily. They sat in the winter sun, Merlin's magic creating a gap in the clouds above them, contentedly chatting for several hours until all of the food had been eaten, the wine had been drunk and they had fallen into a contented silence.

Arthur lay with his head in Merlin's lap, his nose wrinkling as Merlin played with it, amusing himself by pushing it upwards so that it looked like the nose of a pig. Arthur couldn't help but laugh, even as Merlin's spell wore off and the snow began to fall freshly around them. Merlin looked up, smiled and allowed his eyes to flash. A few feet above their heads, the snowflakes began to explode in miniature puffs of light as they hit the barrier that he had created above them. Arthur stared at them, transfixed as the sun began to set.

"I can't believe that you can do that," he murmured as he stroked Merlin's cheek. "It's still a surprise sometimes."

Merlin grinned as he massaged Arthur's chest.

"And to think that you nearly had me executed for it," he replied with a smile. "I found the scrubbing brush at last, by the way. It had created a new grotto in the cellars by the time I got to it, but that's okay. We could do with more storage space."

Arthur smiled and thought back to that day when Merlin had revealed his magic to him. He'd caught him out as he was scrubbing the floor with an enchanted brush. He'd lost it, completely, although that was partly Merlin's fault for being so stand-offish about it. In the end it had worked itself out, but it had been a close thing.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

"So you've said several times," replied Merlin, toying with Arthur's ears. "And I've told you several times that I forgive you. Sometimes you're a Clotpole. I think it might be a hereditary trait. You can't help it."

"My lover; always the flatterer," replied Arthur with a chuckle.

"Well, I don't want your ego to get _too_ big," said Merlin with a huge grin. "You might hurt yourself."

"And then where would you be?" asked Arthur.

"Looking after you, I suspect," replied Merlin. "It's a fact of life. Birds sing, bees fly and Arthurs... Clotpole."

"Okay, that's _not_ a real description."

"Oh yes it is."

They stared at one another grinning.

"Define 'Clotpoling'."

"The act of Prince Arthur engaging in being a Clotpole. Easy."

"So what to Merlins do?"

"Declotpolinisation."

At this, Arthur laughed. "Sometimes you can be _too_ smart, Merlin."

"Is that a compliment?"

"I only said sometimes."

"Oh."

"So, how does one declotpolinise a Prince?"

"Generally I find that telling him works. If he'll listen, that is."

"Do you want a snowball down your back?"

"Only if you can catch me."

Arthur stood up. Merlin's eyes flashed and the empty containers and scraps flew back into the sett again.

"Was that a challenge?"

"Well, I tend to find you're a little slower after eating..."

Arthur stared down at Merlin's cheeky grin.

"I'm slow?"

"After eating," repeated Merlin, nodding solemnly although his grin got wider.

Arthur picked up a handful of snow.

"I will give you to the count of fifteen, and then you're going to find out just how slow I am."

Merlin stood up as Arthur started to count.

"One. Two. Three. You'd better start running, Merlin. Four. Five."

His grin started to get bigger as Merlin stood his ground. He beckoned teasingly to Arthur, daring him to throw the snowball.

"Ten. Eleven. Last chance, Merlin. Twelve. Thirteen. You have no chance. Fourteen. I'm coming to get you. Fifteen!"

As Arthur raised his hand, Merlin's eyes flashed and Arthur found himself pelted by snowballs from all angles.

"You little cheat!" cried out Arthur in delight. "Come here!"

Then they both took to their heels, Merlin darting off ahead as Arthur fought off the last of the snowballs and gave chase. Their laughter carried on until Arthur managed to pin Merlin against a tree trunk. He grunted in triumph as he managed to slip some snow down the back of Merlin's jumper, enjoying the mixture of laughing and squealing coming from his Manservant. Then he spun him around and kissed him.

They stood there, Arthur leaned against Merlin, in a wet but happy embrace for quite some time before Merlin said, "I suppose we had better get back to Camelot and join the feast. We'll be missed if we don't."

Arthur frowned.

"But I thought that you cleared it with the King."

Merlin grinned. "You're too easily fooled sometimes."

Arthur stared at him and started to laugh again.

"Whatever he does to me, it will be worth it," he chuckled as he took Merlin by the arm and led him back to the broomstick.

They took off, slightly more wobbly than before, and headed back to the field beyond the castle. They stowed the broom in the tree line and walked the rest of the way, arm in arm, happier than they had been in a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Day 5:**

"_Please_, Arthur."

"No."

"Not even for me?"

"No."

"Not even at Yule?"

Arthur turned away from Merlin to avoid the persuasive pout that was aimed in his direction.

"Not while you're pouting at me."

Merlin instantly put the pout away and smiled at him.

"So, you'll do it now?"

"Merlin, is there something about the word 'no' that you don't understand?"

"No."

"So why do you keep on asking me?"

"Because it would be a great way to keep the children happy when you go and give the town its annual gifts. It will make you more approachable for them."

"Or it will drive them into Cenred's Kingdom, screaming in terror," replied Arthur. "Merlin, I know that you mean well, but I am not going to sing the greetings. Not for you, or for anybody."

"Not even if I promised you a lot of fun later?"

Arthur paused for a moment, considered his answer carefully and screwed up his nose in thought.

"Not even for a lot of fun later. Not this time. No."

Merlin sighed and turned from him.

"Well, in that case I shall have to tell Uther that you've opted for the costume wearing instead."

Arthur paused in the act of raising a goblet to his lips.

"What costume?"

Merlin held up a finger to indicate that Arthur needed to wait and scooted out of the room. He was back in moments carrying a thick red tunic with white fur around the neck and collars. In his other hand was a pair of trousers that matched it, a fake, white beard and a matching wig. Arthur looked at it disgustedly.

"What is that?"

"Uther thought that it would be a good idea to have a benevolent old man give out the presents. You know, somebody who the children would look forward to seeing every year."

"I don't see where this involves me."

"Well, if you won't sing the greeting, you'll have to wear the costume and I will sing the greeting. That's Uther's decree, right there in writing," replied Merlin, pointing at the rolled up piece of parchment on the table. "If you won't wear the costume, you have to sing the greeting instead."

"Oh, God, I hate my Father sometimes," muttered Arthur, re-reading the decree to see if there was any possible way to get out of it. "This is punishment for being late to the feast yesterday, isn't it?"

"I think so."

"Well, I am not wearing that. It's horrible."

"Are you sure?"

"Certain. I will live with the singing."

"Positive?"

"Merlin, I am the Crown Prince of Camelot. My decision is final!"

"Ok then, if you're sure. You'll also need this then."

Merlin ducked out of the door and returned a few moments later with a skin-tight green and yellow outfit. Arthur's jaw dropped.

"What the hell is _that_?"

"Your elf costume."

"Merlin, you said nothing about having to wear that as well as sing."

"Didn't I?" asked Merlin innocently.

"No."

"But your decision was final, remember? As Crown Prince of Camelot, as I recall."

Arthur bit his tongue, turned and walked out of the room, leaving Merlin grinning behind him.

Night had fallen by the time Merlin arrived in the courtyard. It was a Yule tradition that a present be given by the Royal Family to each child in Camelot. Uther's father had started it years ago, and Uther had continued it. Merlin found himself wondering whether, given Arthur's present mood, he would be continuing it into his reign. Somehow he doubted it at that precise moment. On the other hand, Arthur didn't seem to mind children much. He didn't go out of his way to keep them happy, but neither would he completely ignore them if they happened to be present... as long as they came and said hello to him first, that is.

Merlin scratched his neck. The white fur of the outfit was itching him. Frankly, it felt as if something was alive in it. Given that it had been in storage all year and that he had not had enough notice to wash it before wearing it, he considered that it was highly likely to be the case.

A rustle to his left made him turn. Arthur stepped from behind a bush and Merlin clamped his hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing. The elf costume was far too small for Arthur really. It bulged at the chest and the sleeves were almost splitting from the pressure of Arthur's muscles underneath. He allowed his gaze to drift lower and forgot all pretence as he doubled up in hysterics.

The top was definitely too small. Arthur's toned stomach showed in a ring, about an inch wide, between the end of the top and the start of the leggings. Oh, the leggings, Merlin thought between chuckles. Miles too tight and miles too short, on Arthur, they looked like a pair of shorts.

"When you're finished?" said Arthur.

Merlin gasped for air, stood up straight, looked at Arthur's serious expression, and doubled up laughing again.

"Merlin, I could just as easily put you in this, you know," said Arthur.

With great difficulty, Merlin composed himself, drying his wet eyes with the sleeves of his costume.

"My, Arthur, you look very... green."

"I'm doing this for the children," said Arthur. "Not for your amusement."

"I didn't say that it doesn't suit you," replied Merlin with a cheeky wink.

"Don't you dare," said Arthur. "It's hard enough to disguise myself in these leggings without you being suggestive and making the whole task impossible."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," replied Merlin, innocently stroking his Prince's bottom.

"Merlin," said Arthur warningly as Merlin chuckled, adjusted his false hair and beard, and set off towards the Great Hall.

They reached it not long afterwards and Merlin took his place at a single seat at the head of it. One or two children and their parents were already present, forming a line to one side. Arthur stood next to him looking, without a doubt, like one of the most muscled, battle-worn elves in history. He blushed as Merlin smiled up at him.

"Remember to look happy," hissed Merlin quietly. "You're meant to be a jolly maker of toys."

"That is all very easy to say," hissed back Arthur, "but _you_ haven't got your jewels being pinched at every step you take."

"Well, try," replied Merlin as the first child approached.

Merlin smiled, Arthur turned a grimace into a grin. It only just passed.

"Happy Yule, my little one!" he sang, trying to ignore the feeling of being a complete idiot that was stealing over him.

"Ho, ho, ho!" exclaimed Merlin happily as the child sat on his lap. "Have you been a good girl this year?"

"I made a snowman of Prince Arthur!" she exclaimed happily.

This time, Merlin's Ho,Ho,Ho was a genuine, thinly-disguised snort of laughter as he remembered where he'd seen the girl before.

"Why is Prince Arthur dressed like that?" she asked in a child's whisper that the whole hall could hear.

"Can you keep a secret?" asked Merlin.

She nodded and leaned closer.

"He's my little helper," said Merlin. "He makes sure all these presents are made and wrapped."

"Wow!" she replied, her face a mask of amazement.

"But don't tell anyone, will you?" replied Merlin, glancing around the hall at the smiles of all present. "He likes to think that he's in charge."

He could feel Arthur's stare boring into the side of his head as he said it. He steeled himself.

"It's true," said Arthur, cautiously bending down on one knee to avoid a wardrobe malfunction of the embarrassing kind. "I am in charge of making the presents. Santa here just gives them out. But don't tell him I said that, he likes to think that he's in charge."

He winked as the girl smiled and nodded. Arthur stood back up, grinned back at Merlin and whistled innocently, making the little girl giggle.

"Well, since you've been such a good girl this year and I know that Prince Arthur _really liked_ your snowman, you really do deserve a present," said Merlin, beaming.

He leaned out sideways to the mountain of presents next to him and picked up the one on the top. There was no real need to read the writing on them; they had all been organised into child order by the serving staff. Despite the fact that it looked random, there was a definite order in which the children would approach so that the gift-giving could be made easier on all involved.

He gave her the present and she beamed at him.

"Thank you, Santa," she said and got down off of his lap.

She ran happily back to her parents, showing off the package that she clutched tightly in her hands.

Things continued like this for the next two hours. By the time the last child had got their present and the hall was empty again, Merlin's knees were aching and Arthur's voice had got a little hoarse. The servants left them and closed the door on the empty hall. As soon as it had happened, Merlin breathed a sigh of relief and Arthur sagged against the chair.

"Well done," said Arthur, beaming widely. "That was more fun than I thought it would be."

"If another child sits on my lap before next year, it will be too soon," mused Merlin, smiling up at Arthur.

"So," said Arthur, sitting down on Merlin's knee, "have I been a good boy this year too?"

Merlin looked at him and shook his head.

"No, sorry. You've been a very bad boy."

"So I don't get a present?"

"No, sorry. You get punished."

Arthur smiled down at him.

"And how are you going to do that, Santa?"

"Get up and I will show you."

Arthur stood and Merlin rose moments later.

"Well?"

Merlin's eyes flashed golden. The bar on the doors clicked shut with a crash. He slid down Arthur's body to his knees and pulled down the leggings. Arthur gasped in relief as he was set free from the pinching garment. Merlin looked at him, contriving to keep his expression innocent.

"Arthur Pendragon, you are hereby sentenced to be sucked dry, by order of Santa."

Before Arthur could say anything, Merlin swallowed him.

They returned to the bedroom quite late. Arthur wore a dumb grin, his hair was ruffled and his elf costume was stained at the groin. Merlin wasn't much tidier. Apparently Arthur had loved his punishment. Indeed, if Merlin was any judge, he would be doing this again next year. They stripped out of their costumes and threw them into a corner before settling down in the bed.

It didn't take long for them to fall asleep. They'd worn each other out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Day 6:**

Merlin rose early the next morning and was dressed and out of the room before Arthur had even realised he was gone. As he stepped out, he was pleased to see that, far from melting, the snow had become even deeper overnight. While he'd been asleep, he'd had an idea and he couldn't wait to try it out.

It was a few hours later when Arthur found himself gently shaken awake. He turned over and opened his eyes, finding himself face-to-face with a grinning Merlin.

"You'll never believe what I've done."

He groaned. Not only was Merlin awake and lively, he'd also had a good idea, by the look of it.

"I dread to think," groaned Arthur as he wiped sleep from his eyes. "Can I at least have a wash and something to eat before I see what you've managed to burn down this time?"

"Only if you hurry."

"Yes, Sir," replied Arthur sarcastically as he got out of bed.

Merlin hopped from one foot to the other as Arthur washed, served his food super-fast at breakfast, and practically shoved him into his clothes as he helped him to dress. It was all Arthur could do to order Merlin to stop running as he was bundled out into the corridor by the over-excited sorcerer and practically dragged down the corridor.

"Merlin, what is so important that you can't wait two minutes?" protested Arthur as Merlin dragged him out into the courtyard.

"Sire, prepare to be amazed."

Arthur sighed as he was taken through the town and out into the field beyond. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared.

In front of him was a cart. It seemed at first glance to be quite ordinary until one noticed the lack of wheels and inclusion of skis beneath it.

"Merlin, what exactly am I meant to be looking at? What's so special about the cart?"

"Remember last month, you were moaning at me because the snow meant that you couldn't ride out with all of your hunting gear because no carts could get through it?"

"Yes."

"Well, here's the solution."

"I don't understand."

Merlin sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Look. The cart is mounted on a set of skis."

"And?"

"And, my Prince, that means that we can slide over the snow."

"Have you tried this out yet?"

"No. I need something to pull it. I was hoping that you could lend me some horses."

"I am not tying my horses to that thing," replied Arthur firmly. "They could get hurt. I'll arrange for some donkeys to be brought down. They should be able to pull you with a little coaxing."

"Us."

"What?"

"You're joining me."

"I am not!"

"Please?"

Merlin put on his most pleading expression.

"No."

"I thought that you were brave."

"I am."

"But if you're too chicken to ride with me on the first go, then I guess I'll have to change my opinion."

"Fine. I'll ride with you if it keeps you happy, but I'm steering."

"Yes, my Prince."

As Arthur wandered off to get the donkeys, Merlin smiled to himself. It had almost been too easy.

Arthur returned with six donkeys following him, which Merlin harnessed to the converted cart. He jumped up next to Arthur and grinned.

"Whenever you're ready, Sire," he said.

"Hold on tight," warned Arthur. "We don't know what this thing is going to do."

Merlin gripped the side as Arthur twitched the reigns and the donkeys started to plod forward. The cart lurched and then started to glide smoothly over the snow.

"It works!"

"There's no need to sound so surprised, Merlin. I'm driving it. Of course it works."

Merlin looked sideways at Arthur, who was grinning at him.

"Naturally," replied Merlin, smiling. "Where are we going?"

"Well, I thought we'd take a trip into the forest for a while. We could get some holly to brighten up the bedroom. Would you like to?"

"Definitely."

Arthur guided the donkeys and the cart off towards the forest. They'd be gone for quite a while.


	7. Chapter 7

**Day 7:**

The morning sun broke through the canopy early the next day and woke Arthur from where he'd been sleeping against the trunk of a tree. Merlin lay next to him, using his lap as a pillow. He blinked and looked at the holly-filled cart next to him. Memories of the previous day came back in drips.

They'd spent so much time collecting the prickly foliage that the sun had set and they had not dared to make their way back to Camelot in the dark. Donkeys were not renowned for their night vision and Arthur had no way of seeing far enough in front of them to steer properly. In the end, they'd lit a fire to keep warm and camped out by a frozen lake.

He was glad that they had done now. The morning sun on the ice was beautiful. He stirred and woke Merlin, who sat up and smiled at him, greeting him with a morning kiss.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"After the beast in your lap had been tamed, yes," replied Merlin with a grin.

"I was going to suggest taking a wash in the lake, but it seems to have frozen over," replied Arthur, stroking Merlin's cheek.

"It'll be warmer if we get washed at the castle, anyway," he said, standing up. "Are you ready? We're not far away."

"Yes, I'm ready," replied Arthur. "Do you want to drive?"

"Ok."

With that, they both boarded the cart and headed off towards Camelot.

It took a while for them to arrive, unload and decorate the bedroom with the holly. When they had finally finished, Merlin went to fill the bath. He returned moments later looking extremely puzzled.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"Did anyone say that any presents had been delivered while we were out?"

"No, why?"

"I think you'd better come and take a look."

Arthur followed Merlin into the next room and stopped dead, not quite believing what he was seeing.

The bath had been filled and, in it, seven swans were swimming around quite happily.

"Where did they come from?" wondered Arthur aloud as the door opened and Gwen walked in.

"Ah," she said. "I was hoping to return here before you two got back. I see that you've met your Yule present from Uther."

"Oh, is that what they are?" said Arthur. "How did they get to be in the bath?"

"We had to put them there while we clear some space in the pens," replied Gwen. "I daren't go near them though. They're a bit bad-tempered. I think they like your bath. They won't move."

"Trust Father to find the worst-tempered swans in the Kingdom for me," said Arthur, more to himself than anything. "What am I meant to do with them anyway?"

"Roast them, I think," said Merlin, as his stomach chose a bad moment to rumble.

He looked at Arthur and felt the blush rising on his cheeks.

"I'll roast you if you don't come up with a more sensible suggestion," replied Arthur, only realising what he'd said as Merlin blushed even redder.

Gwen looked down at her feet, trying to stifle a laugh. After a few moments, she excused herself and hurried out of the room.

"Is that a promise?" asked Merlin, ignoring the splashing birds for a moment.

"What?"

"Roasting me? You need two guys to do that, remember? Who is the second one going to be?"

"Lancelot."

"He's dead."

"Which should tell you just how likely it is I'm going to share you with anybody."

"Oh."

"So, Merlin, sort these birds out so that we can have a bath, will you?"

"Sire, it is broad daylight. I can't use my magic now."

"You'll think of something."

Merlin deflated as Arthur left the room. He stared at the birds and sighed. If he couldn't magic them to the pens, they would have to be sent somewhere else. He snapped his fingers at them. In a flash of light, they disappeared. A satisfied smile crossed his lips. He didn't know where they had gone, and he didn't really care.

"MERLIN!"

Merlin jumped as Arthur's bellow cut through the air. Nervously, he made his way to the door and peeked around it. He clapped his hands over his mouth in surprise and horror at what he saw. There, in his chair, sat Prince Arthur. In front of him, stacked one on top of the other in a neat vertical column, were the swans. They looked very bemused by the whole affair.

"What is this?"

"Swan Surprise?"

"Very funny. Now, get rid of them properly."

Merlin rolled up his sleeves, pointed his hand at them and spoke a few words. The swans fell asleep almost at once.

Taking one under each arm, he took them in several runs down to the pen.

He'd have to do something to cheer Arthur up, he knew, but he didn't have a clue what. Maybe it would just be better to stay out of his way for the rest of the day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Day 8:**

And stay out of Arthur's way for the day Merlin had done. After dropping off the swans at the pens, Merlin had taken to skiing around the fields at the edge of town. He'd gone back to the castle late at night and had spent some time chatting to Gaius before turning in.

Now the sun shone through the window of his bedroom straight onto his face, waking him from a deep sleep. He got up and winced. Every muscle in his body ached from his exercise the day before.

Merlin turfed himself out of bed, had breakfast, and went to find Arthur. He found him, eventually, going through some training routines with the knights. Merlin stood off to one side and watched until they'd finished. Then he approached Arthur.

"Good morning!" said Arthur, slightly breathlessly. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Very. It was strange waking up in my own bed."

"You must have been tired after all that exercise."

"How did you know about that?"

"I was watching you from the tower. I wondered about joining you, but I had to catch up with a ton of paperwork."

Merlin opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Sir Gwaine came over and interrupted him.

"Sire. With our very best wishes and thanks for being such a good leader," he said, handing a small, ribboned box over to Arthur. "It's from all the knights to both Merlin and yourself. Happy Yule."

"Thanks, Gwaine," said Arthur, beaming.

"Can we open it now?" asked Merlin.

"It's probably best that you wait until later," replied Gwaine with a wide grin. "It'll be a better surprise for you, that way."

Arthur handed the gift to Merlin, who shook it gently next to his ear. It didn't make a sound. That probably ruled out anything knightish, he mused as they said their goodbyes.

As they made their way through the castle corridors, they speculated about what they could have been given.

"It's very light," mused Merlin as they turned yet another corner.

"Yes. I'm surprised. Last year, they got me a new pair of greaves. I can't imagine what they're up to this year."

"They did seem very pleased with themselves."

"Yes, that's what makes me wonder what they're up to," replied Arthur as they arrived at the end of the corridor.

"Well, I have to go and finish some chores off," said Merlin. "You need your sheets changed... again."

He looked at Arthur meaningfully.

"I can't help it if I'm productive."

"You could use a rag like everybody else."

"Yes, but I'm not anybody else. I'm Prince Arthur, remember?"

"How could I forget," replied Merlin as he gave Arthur a kiss and wandered off down the right hand corridor and Arthur took the left.

"You'd miss me if I wasn't being me!" called Arthur behind him.

Merlin half turned and saw the cocky smile on Arthur's lips as he looked over his shoulder.

"You never give me the chance to!" he called back cheekily.

He turned and heard Arthur laugh behind him as he rounded another corner and passed out of sight.

Actually, changing the sheets was the least problematic of the tasks that Merlin had to perform that afternoon. He entertained Aithusa for an hour before sunset after also clearing out the stables and tidying the Prince's typically untidy room. The end result was... well, not exactly tidy, but untidy in such a way that Arthur knew where everything was, at least. Arthur was not a neat, clean-freak, but did have his limits. As long as it didn't look like a total pig sty, he was generally happy. The gift from the knights sat on the side table and Merlin had kept glancing at it as he tidied up. It was all he could do to stop himself from using his magic to take a peek inside.

The sun had set when Arthur finally arrived back from the last court meeting of the year. He kicked his boots off as soon as the door was closed, strolled over to Merlin and sat down next to him.

"Do you love me?" he asked.

Merlin wrinkled his nose in puzzlement.

"Of course. Why do you ask?"

Arthur put his feet up on the bed and wiggled his toes.

"Please?"

"I see," said Merlin with a smile. "Scoot back then so I don't have to lean."

Arthur did as he was told and Merlin pulled his feet into his lap and began to massage them.

"Thanks," murmured Arthur. "I needed that. I was on my feet for most of the day."

"So you didn't wonder about the present?"

"All day. You see, I can do more than one thing at once, unlike you."

"Yeah, whatever," chuckled Merlin. "What you mean is you can groan _and_ wriggle at the same time."

"Hey, I'm talented!"

"No comment."

"So, did you open it?"

"No, it's still on the table, look. I'll let you open it if you want."

"You know," said Arthur, reaching over and picking up the box, "the knights have been giving me some funny looks all day."

"How so?"

"Every time I've seen them, they've been cutting off conversations that they've been having and started to laugh."

"Well, boys will be boys," replied Merlin. "Even if they're grown men, they're still kind of childish sometimes."

"I hate to think what they've got us if they're doing so much sniggering about it," mused Arthur.

He bit his lower lip as he looked at the present, a most un-Arthurish expression. Swiftly, he tossed it at Merlin, who only just caught it.

"You open it."

"Why?"

"Because I don't trust them not to pull a trick. If it is, you can see what it is and warn me."

"Do I have to?" asked Merlin, examining the present cautiously.

"Yes. Come on, open it."

Merlin took a deep breath, readied a spell in his head just in case they'd packed a prank in it, and tugged open the ribbon. It came away easily. He breathed out. The package didn't seem spring-loaded, at least. Gingerly he took the top off, looked inside and then fell sideways laughing.

"What? What it is?"

"See... see for yourself!" managed Merlin with difficulty, handing it back to Arthur.

Arthur glanced inside, closed his eyes and groaned.

"No wonder they've been chuckling all evening," he said as he pulled out a black leather g-string and let it dangle from his fingers.

"There are eight of them in there," managed Merlin, his eyes streaming with tears of laughter. "Oh, that's the best present I've seen in a long time. Go on, Arthur, try it on."

"In a moment," replied Arthur with a grin. "There's a note here too."

"What does it say?"

Arthur read out:

"_Dear Arty and Merl_."

"They've been listening to our pet names. I don't believe it!" groaned Merlin.

"_We didn't know what to get a Prince and Sorcerer who have almost everything this year, so we decided to seek some help with our decision. Gaius was stuck himself, and Gwen also didn't know, so we decided to approach an Oracle for advice. The Great / Dragon was very helpful and even helped us to cut out the leather in the right pattern with his claws. He said that he knew that this gift would help us to unite the land in happiness for all eternity. We are not sure what he meant by this, but who knows what goes on in the minds of dragons?_

"_We also know that you enjoy bantering with one another, so please find enclosed some artefacts that will assist you in your endeavours. _

"_With much love and best wishes at Yuletide, The Knights, Gwen, Gaius and The Great / Dragon._"

"Some artefacts that will help us?" said Merlin confusedly as Arthur turned the box upside down.

As the g-strings fell out, he stared in shock at what fell out with them. Merlin laughed as he picked up a pair of leather manacles and a soft whip.

"Cool!" he said as he felt the length of it in his hand and gave it an experimental thwack on the side of the bed.

It wasn't heavy, but it did give a very satisfying sound.

"I'll kill that dragon," muttered Arthur, although there was no real passion in his voice.

"You will not!" said Merlin, playfully clipping the side of Arthur's bottom through his clothes with the whip.

"Hey! Who said that you could do that?"

"Don't you want me to?"

Arthur opened his mouth to respond, but found that he couldn't say the word 'no'. There was something horribly fascinating about Merlin holding a whip that held him back from barring him. To his great surprise, he found himself beginning to get hard. Merlin grinned knowingly at him as he crawled up Arthur's body and lay flat on his chest.

"I think you want me to," he breathed huskily into Arthur's ear.

He felt Arthur start to press even harder against him as he searched his lover's expression.

"I promise I won't hurt you," he coaxed. "Please, trust me."

In his mind, Arthur was having a mini crisis. All of his training to be a future King, to be the one in command at all times no matter what was now conflicting with the intoxicating view of Merlin straddling him, demanding that he try on the g-strings and holding a whip which he intended to use on him. By all laws of nature, he decided, Merlin holding a whip should look ridiculous. He should not be looking so damn scorching and having this affect on him. His mind reeled as Merlin traced some light kisses over his neck and murmured encouragement into his ear.

Arthur couldn't even begin to make out what Merlin was going on about, but somehow managed to nod his head in nervous consent. He was, after all, giving his consent to _Merlin_... in his mind, he had every reason to be nervous. And yet... somehow he didn't think that Merlin would cause him any harm. It was at that point that he realised that his balls had taken control of his thinking, but he didn't care.

"What do you wish of me, Master?"

His heart leapt. Had he just said that? Where the hell had _that_ come from? Even Merlin looked a little surprised.

Merlin recovered from the shock quicker than Arthur and trailed the end of the whip across his toned chest.

"Go behind the screen and strip, then put this on," he instructed, handing the g-string to Arthur. "I will give you further orders when I'm satisfied that you've managed these ones."

He got off Arthur and couldn't resist clipping his bottom lightly as he went.

"Be quick," he added as Arthur glanced over his shoulder, his cheeks bright red but his lips set in a wide grin.

Merlin took off most of his clothes and slipped on a g-string himself as quietly as he could. When Arthur emerged from behind the screen, it was to see a very confident, very exposed Merlin. His jaw almost dropped to the floor as he noticed that Merlin had managed to hook both of his ankles around the back of his own neck and was grinning proudly at him.

"You didn't know I could do this, did you?" he said as Arthur came closer. "Stand there and put your arms out. I want to inspect you."

He unhooked his legs and scooted over the bed so that he lay in front of his lover. He slipped a finger into the top of the front pouch, sliding it across the top of his lover's swollen manhood.

"Turn."

Arthur slowly turned and laughed as Merlin placed gentle kisses and teasing, light bites on his hips and bottom as he did so.

"Now, get on all fours."

"Why?"

"It is not your job to question your Master. Open your mouth."

Arthur did so, and Merlin placed the whip gently into it. Arthur bit down to hold it in place.

"If it comes out without my permission, you don't get sex. Am I clear?"

Arthur nodded, amusement twinkling in his eyes. He wasn't sure whether he wanted this new version of Merlin around all the time or not, but he found himself drawn to the freshness of his approach. Certainly nobody had ever dared to try this with him before, and he'd always felt wrong if he'd tried to initiate it. With Merlin, though, he felt completely safe.

"Good. Now, get on all fours."

Arthur meekly obeyed. He was curious to see what Merlin had planned for him.

"Good boy," teased Merlin, straddling his back and tickling him behind the ears. "Now, gee up!"

As he said it, he gave Arthur's bottom a slap. Arthur moaned, but didn't dare let the whip fall out of his mouth. He shuffled forward, allowing Merlin to play horsey on his back, allowing himself to be steered by Merlin pinching his left or right nipple. Only once he had done four laps of the room did Merlin allow him to go back to the bed so that he could get off. Arthur looked at him pleadingly as Merlin sat on the edge of the bed, his legs wide apart. He reached forward and retrieved the whip from Arthur's mouth.

"Do you want me, Arthur?"

Merlin had raised his legs back up around his neck again. Damn! _How come he never knew about that skill before?_

Only a thin strip of leather protected him from Arthur's invasion of his body. It was as fragile as a fairy in a hurricane.

"Yes."

"Do you want to be inside me?"

Arthur nodded, but daren't come forward to take Merlin as he wanted to.

"Fucking me?"

He nodded. The g-string that he was wearing was no longer containing him. He poked out from its small protection and pressed hard against his toned stomach. Merlin lightly ran the whip over it, causing Arthur to groan.

"Arthur?"

"Mmm?"

"I order you to take me."

If there was one thing Merlin had not been prepared for, it was Arthur practically becoming airborne as he leapt at him. In one long movement, Merlin's legs were unhooked, both g-strings had been ripped off and Merlin had been flipped onto his front. Arthur only just remembered to oil up before he entered him. Merlin groaned as Arthur cuffed his wrists to the bedposts and began a relentlessly hard rhythm.

"So, you wanted to play horsey, did you? Let's see how much you can take of me riding you!" hissed Arthur into Merlin's ear.

He smothered Merlin's neck in rough kisses and worked his nipples roughly between his nipples as his Manservant struggled and groaned beneath him.

"I'll teach you to give me orders," he added, slapping the side of Merlin's bottom, causing him to whine pleadingly.

Merlin quickly degenerated into an incomprehensible mess as Arthur worked him harder and harder. As he twisted Merlin's head sideways, noticing his rolled back eyeballs and ragged breathing, he crushed his lips into a hard kiss and forced his tongue around the inside of Merlin's lips. Merlin grunted, struggled, cried out into Arthur's mouth, then went rigid in his arms. Moments later, as Arthur continued to mercilessly ram his manhood into its hot, tight target, Merlin exploded in a fit of noise and shudders.

His spasming around Arthur's manhood made him lose control as well and he shot hard and long into his lover's sweet, sweet body.

After a moment or two, Arthur pulled out, flipped Merlin over and pulled him close, kissing him more tenderly as they came down from their high until they lay, Merlin in Arthur's arms, in a comforting, relaxed embrace.

Merlin stared up at Arthur for a long time, tracking every feature of his lover's face with his gaze. He stroked his finger along his jaw, over his lips, along his nose and ran his hand over his cheek. Arthur captured it neatly and kissed his wrist, his arm, his shoulder and his neck before gently working his lips.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked after Merlin broke away.

"I... yeah. It was... different. Where did you learn to use restraints like that?"

Arthur chuckled.

"I have tied up a lot of men in my time, you know," he replied. "Where did you learn that you could put your legs around the back of your head like that? I've never seen you do that before."

Merlin chuckled. "Truthfully? It's an old party trick. I used to do it back in Ealdor to impress my mates. I've not done it for years. I guess I wanted to see whether I still could."

"But why haven't you done it before? It's a neat trick."

"So, does this mean that it's Prince of Camelot Approved?" asked Merlin, winking cheekily at him. "I'd love to tell them that when I go back to Ealdor next time."

"Yes. Now, don't try to wriggle out of the question, or I shall be forced to tie you up and tickle the answer out of you. Why haven't you done it before?"

Merlin laughed and jammed his arms tightly against his chest as Arthur made a play-lunge at his armpits after he failed to answer straight away.

"Ok! I'll tell!" he practically squealed as Arthur changed his target quickly to his unprotected tummy.

Arthur laid off and let Merlin settle down again. He knew that Merlin was ticklish, but he'd seldom felt confident enough to actually use it against him. Now, it seemed, Merlin didn't seem to mind. He found himself thinking that he'd have to follow up on that fact at some point.

"So?"

"Well, when I was in Ealdor, I used to wear a lot of loose clothes, so I could perform that trick fully dressed," replied Merlin. "Here, you keep me in all kinds of outfits, but none of them allow me enough space to perform it. I guess I had forgotten about it until I put the g-string on. Then I just couldn't resist trying it again, especially with such an appreciative audience on hand.

"Plus, what would you have said if on the day Uther made me your Manservant, I suddenly sat down and wrapped my legs around the back of my head?"

"I would have said, 'Merlin, my bedchamber, now'," lied Arthur with a grin.

"More likely you would have said, 'What the hell are you doing, Clotpole?'," replied Merlin.

"Maybe, but I would have been seriously impressed."

"Like you are now?"

"Like I am now."

"And what did you think of me with a whip?" asked Merlin playfully. "You seemed to like it."

Arthur grinned broadly.

"The word 'like' doesn't even begin to cover it," he said, grinning widely.

"So you'd let me do that again?" asked Merlin.

"Yes. Oh, but Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"Nobody, and I mean _nobody_ can ever know about that. Do you promise you won't tell a soul?"

Merlin looked into his Prince's anxious expression and kissed him reassuringly.

"I promise," he replied.

"Good," said Arthur getting up. "I'm going to get in the bath now. Do you want to come too?"

"No, I've already done that," replied Merlin cheekily as Arthur rolled his eyes and wandered off into the next room. Merlin wiped himself down with a rag and curled up under the covers.

"Merlin!" called Arthur through the open door.

"Yes."

"I loved that. But _please_ don't tell anybody."

"I promise you, Arthur, I won't."

"Thanks."

Merlin jumped a little as a voice in his head said, "_You may promise not to tell, Young Warlock, but I cannot promise anything. I knew that the present I suggested for you both would draw you ever closer, uniting the land in happiness and I have observed that I was right first hand. But, Merlin, seriously: You used Arthur as your horse?"_

"_Shut up, Kilgarrah."_

Merlin felt the blush rise on his cheeks and groaned as Kilgarrah broke down into his loud, booming laugh, which eventually faded away. He would not be able to face The Great Dragon for some time without blushing madly, he knew.

When Arthur finally came to bed, Merlin snuffed out the light and cuddled up close to him. He deliberately said nothing about Kilgarrah's words. It just felt wrong.


	9. Chapter 9

**Day 9:**

Merlin made the final adjustments to his Prince's favourite outfit. He spun around, carefully inspecting it for flaws. The red cape swished through the air as he reached for the dreaded hat and placed it on his head. The Servant's Ceremonial Outfit always seemed to him to be way over the top, but Arthur liked him wearing it and, on the ninth day of the Great Yule Feast – the first day he had actually bothered to attend with Arthur and the only day they were both actually obliged to attend – he wanted to make Arthur happy.

Once he was satisfied that the outfit was correctly positioned, he left his bedroom.

He just made it to the door when Gaius stopped him.

"Are you going to the feast tonight?"

"Yes, as Arthur's official escort."

"You have gone up in the world."

"He insisted. Besides, now that he knows about my magic, it's not such an issue. Even the knights haven't taken offense. I think they're glad that they can relax a bit tonight."

"Not too much, I hope. You know that Morgana doesn't stop for Yule."

"Morgana doesn't seem to stop for anything," replied Merlin grimly. "What was it you wanted of me?"

Gaius reached into his pocket and produced a glass bottle.

"Would you mind dropping this in for the cook, please? She's suffering from a chill and this is to help warm her up. Tell her she only needs one drop every few hours. It's quite powerful stuff."

"No problem," said Merlin cheerily. "I'm running early as it is."

"Thank you."

"I'll see you there."

With that, Merlin left the room and wandered through the castle to the kitchens.

He didn't particularly like coming down here. The cook disliked him at the best of times and, now that he was dating Arthur, she disliked him even more. It was with a slight nervousness that he walked into the steaming hot room and tried to locate her over the organised chaos that preceded the last-minute arrangements for serving. He couldn't see her.

"Hey, you, what do you want?"

Merlin turned and saw a scrawny specimen of a woman scurrying towards him.

"If you think that you can pilfer a snack, you've got another thing coming, my laddo."

"I was just bringing this to cook. Gaius asked me to give her it."

He thrust forward the bottle as the woman eyed him suspiciously.

"Put it on the table there and get out!"

Merlin did as he was told and left hurriedly. The kitchen staff were generally not the friendliest of folk on a quiet day, but on the ninth day of the Great Feast they were prone to exploding without warning. He was better off out of there, he thought as he almost ran upstairs to escape them.

He wandered off towards Arthur's room, where he knocked and waited. After a few moments, Arthur emerged in his best ceremonial robes and Prince's crown and grinned widely.

"Wow," said Merlin, casting his gaze over his lover. "Don't you look smart?"

"Likewise," replied Arthur, closing the door behind him. "You're early."

"Are you complaining?"

"No. I'm just stunned. I might faint away at any moment."

"Do you want to arrive at the Feast horizontal and floating through the air?"

"No. People might get the wrong idea."

"I would take full credit and my standing would rise even higher," said Merlin with a cheeky grin.

"I would rather not have that kind of gossip floating around the castle," replied Arthur with a grin. "As it is, I'll have to dance with goodness knows how many Princesses tonight."

"As long as you save a dance for me, I don't care," replied Merlin.

Arthur saluted, causing Merlin to laugh and kissed Merlin gently on the cheek.

"Yes, Sir!" he exclaimed as Merlin proffered his arm, which Arthur took.

They started to walk slowly down the corridor. They hardly needed to rush. Merlin found his heart pounding as he automatically swept his gaze around the corridor for enemies. Even though he had protected Arthur numerous times before, this was the first time he had been asked to escort him officially. All the other times had not been proper escorts, apparently.

Arthur must have sensed his tenseness for he said, "Nobody's going to murder me tonight."

Merlin groaned.

"Did you _have_ to say that?" he asked as they turned a corner and made their way towards the main staircase. "It's not as if your murderers keep a diary... Well, not unless it's Morgana, anyway."

"Merlin, be more worried when I stand and make my speech. At that point, I'm an easy target and there's no going back. It could be a tricky one this year."

"Besides," he added, nodding to the guards ahead of him, "we have knights on both flanks of us all the way from the stairs to the hall. I am sure we will be fine."

As they approached, the two knights at the top of the staircase saluted him and turned on their heels to face inward, their swords raised into an arch under which Merlin and Arthur would pass. As they reached them, the other knights copied their movement. Merlin led the Prince on through the sword-tunnel down the stairs. The very, very sharp swords held by very capable sword fighters. The fact that they were meant to be on their side did little to quell his anxiety.

At the bottom, they stopped and turned around.

"Knights, in line and follow," said Arthur.

They formed a line, two abreast behind him. He turned around and walked confidently onwards. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief, although he didn't stop looking around, checking for danger.

"What are you worried about?" said Arthur quietly. "Do you think I'm about to be viciously attacked by a flying custard pie?"

"Custard pies can hide knives," Merlin murmured back.

He wasn't sure why he had just said that and blushed. Arthur just chuckled quietly.

"I worry about you sometimes," he murmured, gently squeezing Merlin's arm to him.

"Not half as often as I worry about you," replied Merlin. "Oh, thank Heaven, there's the hall."

It was all that Merlin could do to force his feet to slow down as they drew closer. Once they were through the door, they would be in the hall and surrounded by people who knew and cared for Arthur. Right now, somehow, he felt exposed, even with all the knights behind them.

It was with much relief that they finally entered the hall to a standing, applauding crowd. The guards fanned off around both sides and took their seats at the lower tables whilst Merlin escorted Arthur past the assembled Lords and their Ladies to the top table, sat him down next to King Uther, and then took own his place beside him.

Arthur had insisted that Merlin be allowed to sit with him at the top table this year, and had worn Uther down over it. Uther wasn't exactly happy, but in the end he had allowed Arthur to have his own way.

Merlin allowed his gaze to roam around the hall. It wasn't the upturned faces in the audience that bothered him. He knew who all of them were. No, it was the balcony that ran high around the perimeter of the hall that permanently concerned him. If ever a hall had a design flaw, this one did.

Indeed, he had become so engrossed in checking the place out that he barely registered the fact that Arthur had stood up until he started to speak.

All eyes were riveted on the Prince as he spoke about friends, alliances and the spirit of the season. Merlin only heard one out of of every few words spoken. He'd heard Arthur make so many speeches in the past that he tended to tune out these days. If anybody could talk the entire destiny off of Albion, Arthur could.

In a pause, there was the usual clapping. Some of it, Merlin mused, was genuine. Gwen and Gaius and the knights tended to enjoy this kind of thing. The other servants... well, some genuinely liked Arthur, some wanted to be in his bed just for the kudos it would bring and others... well, others were just toadying lackeys who Merlin personally had little time for. In that one room, at that one time of year when everybody who was anybody was present, there were enough feuds to keep the Royal Family running for at least a decade... if they ever got over their own internal squabbles for long enough to notice, that is.

The smell of food was intoxicating. It was all laid out on the tables, from seven roast swans that Merlin suddenly realised were very familiar, to great slabs of roasted boar to a whole side of beef, being turned by the lowly Spit Boy over the roaring fire. Wine was there by the barrel-load... and that was only the first course. It would go on like this for almost half the night. Then there would be dancing, poetry and singing.

Merlin tried to keep a straight face as he remembered a request from the knights to hear one of Arthur's own poems. He'd politely declined and then ribbed Merlin for hours about his completely fictional status as a poet.

"...Merlin."

He jumped a little as he heard Arthur say his name. The room had erupted in a chorus of cheers and foot-stamping and the King, while he looked unhappy, was at least clapping. Arthur looked down at him expectantly as he felt the chill spread down his spine. What had he missed?

"Yes?" he said, hoping that it would be the right thing to say.

The room erupted in an even louder chorus of cheers and whistles to the point that it was almost deafening.

Arthur pulled him into a tight hug and kissed him. Merlin reciprocated automatically.

"I knew you would say yes!" he exclaimed quietly into his ear. "How does it feel?"

"Strange," replied Merlin honestly, his mind racing to work out what the hell was going on.

"You'll get used to it. It was a nightmare to hide it from you. I've been planning it with Father for months. He finally approved it last week. Let me get you your crown."

"My what?"

"Every Prince-Consort needs a crown," replied Arthur quietly, stepping back and smiling. "It will give you practice wearing it before... well, before our big day."

Merlin's head spun. Oh, God, he'd just accepted a public proposal from Prince Arthur and he hadn't even realised it! _Oh, God_!

He felt his legs begin to buckle beneath him, saw the room start to spin and just managed to reach his seat before he fell over. Arthur chuckled and made a hand signal to the knights. Sir Leon stood, pulled the small gold crown out from under his robe and made his way to Arthur, grinning widely at Merlin as he came.

He handed it to Arthur, who took it and raised it high for all to see to a chorus of approving applause.

"Merlin, you need to stand up," whispered Leon.

Merlin got to his feet with some difficulty. It was only with a barely noticeable flash of his eyes that he managed to remain upright while he was there.

Arthur turned to him, beaming widely, and removed the Servant's Hat, which he handed to Leon.

"Merlin, from this day forward you will be known as the Prince-Consort. But more than that, it gives me great pleasure to finally award this title to the man I love. Please kneel before your Prince."

Arthur's voice took on a strange note during the last sentence, the meaning of which was only immediately clear to Merlin. His cheeks went slightly redder as he said meekly, "Yes, Sire."

Once he was on his knees, he was grateful that only Arthur could see the small, naughty grin which had come automatically onto his lips. Arthur flushed a little, but kept his composure.

"You'll need to lean forward a little when I tell you," he whispered, "You're too far away. I can't lean over you when I'm doing this. I have to be upstanding."

Merlin's gaze darted to the contents of the parting in the front of Arthur's robes.

"I can see that you're being _very_ upstanding," he hissed back, almost without moving his lips.

"I like to do my duties well," replied Arthur with a small wink.

"Come closer to receive the crown of your station," he said aloud.

Merlin obediently shuffled forward. He beamed up at Arthur.

"Is this close enough for you, Sire?" he whispered.

"I will demonstrate proper distances at much greater length later," promised Arthur.

"Yes, Sire."

"By the power vested in me as Crown Prince of Camelot, I hereby crown you Prince-Consort."

He lowered the crown gently onto Merlin's head. There was a horrible moment when it seemed that it might be a little too big for him, but then it passed. The crown rested neatly behind his ears. He took Arthur's proffered hand and allowed him to help him up.

"Three cheers for the Prince-Consort!" called out Arthur.

The room exploded in noise as Merlin faced them and gave a big thumbs-up. Tables were hammered on, cheers echoed from the walls and a few cries of, "It's about time!" were heard over them, although from whom they came it was impossible to know.

As the noise died down again and after King Uther had somewhat reluctantly given his public blessing, they settled down to eat.

"How in the world did you manage to get that permission?" asked Merlin quietly as they tucked in.

"With difficulty. But even my Father couldn't ignore fate."

"Does that mean I have to call him 'Daddy-In-Law' now?"

"Not if you still value your neck," replied Arthur with a smile. "He's only just accepted the inevitable. Don't make it any harder for him."

It was during the second course that Merlin sensed that something was wrong. The kitchen staff entered and placed bottles of varied condiments on the tables. They varied according to the rank of the guests, with only the top table receiving the most exotic.

Everything had been going well until there was a sudden commotion from the Lords. Nine of them jumped up and started hopping about, fanning their mouths in pained panic. Merlin stood suddenly and ran down to them.

"What's wrong?"

The nearest one pointed at a bottle on the table, then his food, then his mouth. Merlin snatched up the bottle and felt his heart sink.

"Is everything alright?" called Arthur.

"It's just... a new condiment, Arthur," he replied, hurriedly stuffing the bottle into his robes. "They will be alright. It's a little on the spicy side."

He turned to one of the servants and ordered milk to be brought to the table. Once they had drunk several jugs of it, they settled down again and the feast carried on.

Once the meal was over and the tables had been cleared, the entertainment began. A troupe of musicians struck up a slow, gentle tune and Arthur looked around for Merlin. He found him huddled near Gaius, handing over the bottle he had grabbed from the Lords' table. He slipped up behind him quietly and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Merlin, would you care for a dance?"

"In a moment. I just need to sort this out first."

Arthur smiled.

"Merlin," he whispered, hooking Merlin's arm in his, "I know I still have to teach you a lot of protocol, but as Prince-Consort, when I ask you to dance it means _everybody else_ is waiting for us to start so that they can start."

"Oh. Ok, then. See you later, Gaius."

Merlin turned and allowed himself to be led into the middle of the hall. All of the guests had respectfully stood off to the side to allow the Prince his first dance of the night.

"I'll lead," said Arthur quietly as they put a hand on each other's hip and joined their other hands. "Slow and gentle."

"Like you?" asked Merlin as they started to move.

Arthur couldn't help but grin.

"Something like that," he replied as they completed their first circle, turned and sped up in the opposite direction.

As they reached the end of a long twirl, Arthur bent Merlin over backwards into his arms. There was a moment when he caught Merlin's grin of happiness, before he was up again and spinning from the tip of Arthur's outstretched fingers.

Gasps of astonishment filled the room as he failed to stop. If anything, it seemed to Arthur that he was speeding up. He let go of Arthur's hands and pulled his arms in tight against him, took a deep breath and with great focus, pushed himself up onto tiptoe. He held it for a few seconds, before letting himself back down. He reconnected to Arthur's hand and slowed to a stop, allowing Arthur to finish the dance with him tilted backwards in his arms.

Over the noise of the applause, Arthur asked, "Where did you learn to do that?"

He was genuinely astonished.

"I still have hidden skills," murmured Merlin as he stood back up and Arthur invited the rest of the guests onto the floor. "I need a drink and a chance to sit down. My toes are killing me. I haven't done that move for years."

It was the early hours of the morning by the time they finally left the hall and made their weaving way, arm in supporting arm, back up to Arthur's bedroom. The door opened with a crash as Arthur stumbled inside, laughing merrily, and Merlin unsteadily closed the door behind them.

Arthur started to strip straight away as Merlin leaned against the door, watching him. They had both had a bit to drink, but neither was blind drunk. When Arthur's length sprang into view, Merlin couldn't help but laugh. There was something about the way it had done it that tickled him.

Arthur stood facing him, his hands on his hips as he waited for the laughter to die down.

"You can take off the crown now," he said as Merlin settled.

He lay down on the bed and looked at Merlin expectantly. Merlin reached up and took the thin crown off. He held it in his hands, playing with it thoughtfully. Then he looked at Arthur and a light went on in his head.

"Stay still," he said, causing Arthur to frown. "I think I've found a new game to play."

Arthur said nothing, but did as he was told. He was quite interested to see what Merlin had suddenly come up with.

Merlin held the crown carefully and took aim. Then he flicked his wrist and sent it flying through the air. It landed flat on Arthur's stomach as Arthur started to laugh.

"Damn, missed!" exclaimed Merlin, darting forward to retrieve the crown again.

Once back in position, he tossed it again. This time, it hit its target and came to a spinning halt over Arthur's manhood.

"Yesss! One point for me!" exclaimed Merlin. "Your turn."

He stripped off and threw himself onto the bed as Arthur got up with the crown in his hand.

"How do I win this game?" he asked as he weighed the crown in his hand.

"Best of five?"

"And what are we playing for?"

"Top or bottom. You win, you're on top; you lose, I'm on top. Agreed?"

"Merlin, I think that my aim is going to be far better than yours."

"We'll see," teased Merlin as Arthur took aim.

He tossed the crown and it missed. They swapped position and Merlin caught him straight away.

"You have a good aim," Arthur was forced to concede when he found himself lying face down on the bed later, his legs parted awaiting his lover.

"I have to have," murmured Merlin as he kissed his way gently up Arthur's back, listening to the whine of happiness that escaped his lips and noting the shivers that coursed through Arthur's body.

As he reached his ear and nibbled it gently, he added, "How else do you think it's safe for me to hurl around balls of searing power?"

"Liar. You don't. You've never hurled mine around in your life," replied Arthur cheekily, earning him a brief tickle under his arms.

"You've never asked me to," replied Merlin, as he oiled himself up and slipped inside Arthur who moaned happily.

Merlin waited for his lover to relax a little before he began a slow, steady rhythm.

"This is for making me your Prince-Consort," he murmured as Arthur tilted his head back and gasped.

Merlin didn't often top him, but occasionally he loved to be bottom. As long as Merlin went gentle on him. He knew that Merlin liked it hard and fast, but for him, slow and steady always won the day.

Merlin captured his lips and they kissed deeply as Arthur shuddered beneath him.

Several hours later, Arthur's moan of pleasure echoed around the room as Merlin tipped him skilfully over the edge and came himself.

Arthur rolled over, his body trembling, his body covered in sweat and his hair muzzed up. He breathed heavily, tracing his shaking hands across Merlin's cheek. Merlin caught them as they neared his lips, licked his palm and sucked gently on the inside of his wrist.

"I..."

Merlin placed a finger on his lips and kissed him again. Arthur's mind had been blown. Merlin had held him on the edge using his sweet spot for almost half an hour before he had allowed him to finish. It had been great to feel his Prince contracting madly around his manhood for so long, but it had been the tenderness between them that had most blown Arthur away. Merlin, much as he could be very energetic as a bottom, was also very considerate of Arthur's pain limitations when Merlin was being his top.

He had revelled in putting his Prince onto a slow heat, working his lips, his neck, his nipples and his bottom slowly, sensuously, gradually adding tension, allowing it to dissipate again, only to flood his mind with even more erotic sensations moments later. He guessed that was the key to Arthur allowing himself to be topped: it had to be hot, sensual, slow and erotic.

"I... I loved that," said Arthur as they broke their kiss and lay staring at one another.

"I'd never have guessed," teased Merlin. "Your nails have left marks on the side of the bed, look."

Arthur glanced over and down and chuckled. His kissed Merlin deeply.

"I love it when you do that to me. You don't treat me like a piece of meat like some of the other servants would like to. You're a very caring young man, under all the power you possess."

"Well, prime beef is best served after a long, slow roasting," observed Merlin with a grin. "The longer and slower the roasting, the better the reward at the end, in my experience."

"And prime beef requires a lot of turning," observed Arthur.

The amusement twinkled in his eyes.

"Yes, you seemed very keen on being turned over regularly," mused Merlin as he pulled the covers up over them, engulfing them in musky, sex-scented warmth. "I've never had anybody hang their upper body off the edge of the bed while I've been perfecting an orgasmic masterpiece for them before. How was it?"

"Strange," replied Arthur after moment's thought. "The blood rushes to your head, the world is upside down but you hit the right spot perfectly every time. I couldn't stay there for long. I was getting dizzy. How was it for you?"

"Oh, you know," replied Merlin, shrugging endearingly. "I was elevated in the world over dinner, then I danced the Crown Prince around a crowded hall in front of everyone who is anyone, and then, for an encore, I reduced him to a quivering, satisfied heap of hotly-shagged sexiness."

"Just another normal day then?" asked Arthur with a smile.

"No. It has been a very special day with a very special man whose soft moans of bliss as he's getting laid are what I live for," replied Merlin, kissing Arthur deeply. "I never want it to end. I never want to lose you. Arthur Pendragon, you are my life, my world and my reason for being. I never want you to change."

"So, does that mean I can still leave my room in a mess?"

Merlin smiled at him.

"If you do that, my Prince, I will set George on you... for a week. I can order that now, you know."

Arthur's jaw dropped in mock horror.

"You wouldn't dare," he teased.

Merlin curled up next to him and hugged him sleepily.

"No, perhaps I wouldn't," he mused. "But only perhaps."

Arthur sighed a deep, mock sigh. "I knew I shouldn't have elevated you," he replied.

The glint in his eye amused Merlin deeply.

"I suppose I'll have to become all responsible now, won't I?" he added playfully.

"Arthur, if you _ever_ became anything other than you, I would be very disappointed, and that's a fact."

"So you'll accept me as I am? Messy bedroom and all?"

"Messy bedroom, _snoring_ and all," confirmed Merlin.

"Merlin, I _do not_ snore."

"Yes, dear," teased Merlin, rolling over. "Whatever you say."

Merlin's shriek of laughter as Arthur pinned him to the bed and tickled his feet for saying such a thing carried down the hallway to the ears of the knights on guard duty. They smiled at each other knowingly and went back to their game of cards. It seemed to them like the future was going to get very interesting for Camelot indeed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Day 10:**

"Merlin, is this _really_ necessary?"

Merlin cocked his head and put on his most endearing "Why are you asking me this?" expression.

"It's just that... well, I know how to dance already."

"Not this style, you don't," replied Merlin, "Trust me, you'll thank me for it one day when you've repealed the anti-magic laws."

"And when am I going to know that?"

"When I insist that you dance with me at the annual Sorcerer's Ball."

"There is no such thing!"

"Not yet," replied Merlin determinedly. "But we like to let our hair down as much as anybody else and I fully plan to give my kind an annual opportunity to do it. I don't plan to allow you to embarrass yourself if you can't even perform a basic step."

"But I _can_ perform a basic step, Merlin. In fact, I can dance a blooming complicated step if I want to!"

"In two dimensions, yes!" exclaimed Merlin. "But not in three. It takes a bit more than fancy footwork, you know. I don't plan to be the most powerful sorcerer in the land and then have to admit that my lover can't perform a basic mount!"

"A what?"

"You'll see."

"What do you mean, three dimensions?"

"You can only do start/stop and left/right/diagonal/spin/jump," replied Merlin. "Don't get me wrong, you're very impressive, but you can't yet do levitate. Since levitation is a very important part of magical dancing, you're rather a novice, I'm afraid."

Arthur huffed to himself as Merlin checked that the hall doors were shuttered and then pointed at the instruments in the corner, which struck up a slow tune.

"Now, are you ready?" he asked as he made his way over to Arthur.

"I still don't see what you're going to teach me."

Merlin sighed and stepped back.

"Perhaps if I demonstrate?"

"You do that."

Merlin snapped his fingers and the music changed to something far more bouncy and energetic. He steeled himself and jumped. He didn't come down. Arthur stared at him as he began to move his feet quickly in mid air in something that looked not too dissimilar to tap dancing.

Multi-coloured sparks flew from his heels as he kicked up a beat, spun and glided, leaping from one height to another as he went, up and down, around and around. As the music died, he landed neatly on the floor again, panting a little from the exertion.

"Okay, so maybe I was wrong," conceded Arthur after a moment of silence. "But how am I going to do that?"

"With a lot of practice," replied Merlin, clicking his fingers again to get the same slow music playing. "Now, are you ready to learn?"

Arthur chuckled and turned his head to the windows high above. He thought for a moment before snapping his head back around to face Merlin with a huge grin.

"Well, I suppose if I'm ultimately to rule over a magical Kingdom, I had better start to learn its ways, hadn't I?" he replied. "Although it will be the first time that you've managed to get one over on me."

"That you know of," teased Merlin as they linked hands.

"I should warn you, Merlin, I learn quickly."

"Are you saying that you might be too much for me?"

"Not in so many words."

He winced a little as Merlin slapped his bottom.

"I am a surprisingly good teacher," he replied, kissing Arthur's cheek. "Now, your hands are in the wrong place."

"But this is how you start off a slow dance," protested Arthur.

Merlin gave him a slightly pitying look.

"If you're only going for a twirl around the floor, this is fine," he replied. "But we are about to jump into the air. If you get it wrong, you'll probably break your fingers with this hold. Here, allow me."

Merlin rearranged Arthur's hands so that, instead of having his fingers slipped into the top of his trousers, he held Merlin much higher on the sides of the chest.

"This just feels wrong," he said when Merlin had finished.

"Only to you," replied Merlin. "To me, it's perfectly natural. This is how _I_ was taught. Now, bend your knees."

They both went down together.

"On the count of three, jump," said Merlin. "Leave the levitation part to me. I'm leading, so that's my role anyway. Are you ready?"

Arthur licked his lips and nodded.

"Alright then. One, two, three."

Merlin jumped hard, but Arthur chose that moment – completely the wrong moment – to restrain himself. The net result was Merlin shooting upwards like a small rocket and Arthur falling to his bottom as his lover's feet kicked him backwards. Merlin brought himself to a sudden stop just before hitting the ceiling.

He looked around, slightly puzzled at the lack of Arthur and then looked down.

"Are you alright?" he called as Arthur picked himself up and dusted himself off.

"Just a little surprised, that's all," called back Arthur. "Merlin, I can't _do_ this! I'm bloody useless at it!"

Merlin sighed and lowered himself back down to the ground.

"No, you're just not used to failing," he said. "I know why it didn't work. You didn't jump hard enough. You hesitated half way up."

"Well, forgive me, but I've never hovered in mid-air before," replied Arthur huffily.

"Oh, come on," soothed Merlin, stroking his cheek. "Just think: when you master it, you'll be respected even more as a King for trying to learn our ways. Think of it as helping to build a stable Albion."

Arthur said nothing.

"If you won't do it for me, then at least do it for Camelot's sake," said Merlin. "Why, when you're good at it who knows? Maybe you'll even win the annual dance competition. Then we can all boast that our King could dance his way out of anything. Please?"

He knew immediately that he'd hit the right nerve. Arthur could easily give something up at the drop of a hat if it didn't suit him, but if it meant letting Camelot down, that was a different story.

"You're seriously thinking of holding a dance competition in our new land?"

"Absolutely!" exclaimed Merlin. "Why not? You take part tournaments every year so that the knights can prove themselves. Why not hold a dance contest so that my people can show off their skills? And who else would we want there as our guest of honour, other than our breathtakingly handsome, generous and talented King Arthur?"

Again, Merlin sensed that he'd hit the right note. If in doubt, appeal to vanity, he mused as he saw the cogs in Arthur's head turn, mulling the idea over.

"It could be fun," Arthur conceded after a while.

"It will be," promised Merlin.

"But what role will you play?" asked Arthur suspiciously.

"If you think I'm going to sit on the sidelines and do all the judging, you need to think again!" exclaimed Merlin happily. "I'm going to be in there with the rest of them, completely enjoying myself!"

"So I'll be doing the judging?"

"If you like," replied Merlin. "But if you do, you'll certainly need to know a bit about what you're judging. So you'll still need to know how to dance, Sire."

Arthur replaced his hands on either side of Merlin's chest. Merlin grinned. He'd won.

"Don't look too smug," teased Arthur. "I haven't agreed to allowing this... competition yet."

Merlin said nothing as he repositioned himself and they bent down.

"Remember, don't hold back this time."

Arthur nodded.

"One, two, three."

This time Arthur didn't hold back. He leapt with all his might and shouted in joy as he felt himself leave the ground with Merlin. The shout quickly turned into a loud thump as he hit the ceiling and fell back down again. Once again, Merlin found himself looking down on a severely dented ego.

"That was better," he said, once he'd landed and helped the Prince back up. "But a little overdone. Perhaps I should start you off with something simpler so that you can get the feel of it."

What Arthur said in reply was unprintable, but he didn't walk away.

"Come on then," he huffed. "What do you have up your sleeve this time? I swear, Merlin, if Morgana doesn't kill me first, then you might with this."

Merlin thought for a moment as the music played.

"Perhaps... perhaps a more gentle introduction to levitation is in order," he mused. "I have it!"

Arthur groaned. Part of him had hoped that Merlin would give up. It seemed that Merlin had other ideas.

"Let's have a normal dance," said Merlin.

"And how is that going to help?" asked Arthur, placing himself in a much more familiar starting position.

"Trust me, it will," replied Merlin as they began to move gracefully to the music. "You like leading don't you?"

"I've had to get used to it," replied Arthur as he led Merlin around the floor on autopilot.

His feet knew exactly what they were doing as he moved through the familiar steps.

"I know," replied Merlin, drawing closer to him. "But I bet you anything you like that you can't do this with your eyes closed."

Arthur snorted a laugh.

"You really like hopeless bets, don't you Merlin?"

"You can't do it," teased Merlin. "I bet you... I bet you a cooked meal that you can't do it."

Arthur laughed.

"So if I win the bet, you cook a meal for me. If I lose, I cook for you, is that it?" he asked.

"Absolutely," replied Merlin.

"Are you sure you don't want to retract that?" asked Arthur. "I don't usually take unfair bets, you know."

"I'll tell you what," replied Merlin, grinning, "If you can dance with your eyes closed until I say 'stop', I will make you a special meal every night this week. How's that?"

"You're on."

"Alright then, whenever you're ready, my Prince."

Arthur closed his eyes and Merlin grinned even more widely as his eyes flashed. Arthur kept dancing, chuckling to himself as they slowly rose, one step at a time, into the air.

"How am I doing, Merlin?" he teased as they spun around at head height, rising oh-so-slowly so that Arthur had no clue of what was going on around him. "Have you worked out the menu yet?"

"I'm thinking about it, Sire," replied Merlin honestly as they spun gently past the top of the torch holders and Merlin found himself suddenly glad that it was midday and they hadn't yet been lit.

They were in the middle of the room by the time Arthur ran out of steps and Merlin finally whispered, "Okay, you can stop now."

"Well, Merlin, maybe that will teach you not to take on stupid bets," he said happily.

"Possibly," replied Merlin. "You can open your eyes now, Sire," he added.

Arthur did as he was told and grinned widely at Merlin. Merlin watched him carefully as his expression changed from one of triumph to one of shock.

Arthur looked around, he looked down and then he jumped in fright as he saw that the floor was no longer under his feet. He was standing with Merlin in mid air.

"It's alright!" exclaimed Merlin as he gripped the Prince tightly. "I've got you! You're alright. Just don't let go of me, ok? I can hold you up for a while, but it makes the job harder if we're not connected."

"I'm... I'm..."

"You're floating, yes," replied Merlin.

Arthur held on to Merlin tightly, nearly suffocating him in the process.

"Arthur, I need air," managed Merlin, eventually managing to persuade Arthur to release him a little.

Once Arthur had calmed a little, he asked, "So, are you ready for your first dance lesson?"

Arthur nodded and Merlin began.

Several hours later and many bruises incurred on both of them, they finally touched down on the floor again. In one way, Arthur was glad to be back on terra-firma again. In another way, however, he missed the sensation of floating.

Magical dancing hadn't been as bad as he had first feared, he found himself thinking. True, there had been an unexpected torch fitting in the way as he had done his first mid-air somersault, and there had been a nasty moment when he'd almost managed to grab a roosting bat to bring himself out of a never-ending spin, but it had been good.

And, what he was most proud of out of all of it, was that on his tenth attempt, he had finally managed to lead Merlin into the air from a jumping start. All in all, he was very, very pleased with himself.

"So, when can we do this again?" he asked as Merlin collapsed down into a seat, totally worn out.

"Again?" he managed.

"You were the one who said you wanted to champion a dance contest in my new Kingdom," replied Arthur happily. "I approve. But I need to practice. So, when can we do this again?"

"Perhaps next week," replied Merlin, standing up stiffly.

His whole body ached from head to toe and he just wanted to go and lie down for a while. Arthur had been very energetic, once he had found his feet, and Merlin had had a hard time containing the numerous mistakes that he had made. Now he just wanted a rest.

"We'll schedule it in for Wednesday, then," replied Arthur happily. "Father will be out hunting that day, so there's no danger he will see us doing it."

"Fine by me," replied Merlin. "Come on, let's get some food. I'm starving."

"You're also cooking," reminded Arthur. "You lost our bet, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," murmured Merlin as Arthur lifted the heavy bar on the door out of the way. "What would you like?"

"Anything, as long as it's hot."

Merlin held Arthur's arm up and inspected the muscles critically.

"About half an hour, constantly turned should do it."

"You are not eating my arm."

"But you said-"

"-I meant _food,_ Merlin."

The sound of Merlin's mock huff carried down the corridor and into the distance.


	11. Chapter 11

**Day 11:**

The morning was bright and crisp as Merlin and Arthur took their seats in the tournament arena which had been re-erected several days before. Arthur was dressed in his best robes as he took his seat between the King on one side and Merlin on the other.

The cheers of the crowd were deafening as the knights made their way into the arena and lined up before their King, who they bowed too. Uther made a welcome speech that seemed to go on a bit. Arthur and Merlin clapped happily. Although Arthur was relatively restrained in his applause, Merlin was nearly stamping his feet in approval for the knights. After all, it was the first time he'd actually been able to sit and watch a tournament without having to worry about Arthur being impaled by a jousting lance.

Come to that, it was the first time in his memory that Arthur had not taken part. He'd made some excuse about the Yuletide tournament being only for the ranks of the knights, not the leader. A chance for them to demonstrate their skills to the Prince who, by tradition, was their leader. After all, he'd said, the Yuletide Tournament was technically a tribute to the Prince for leading them through a successful year and it would be pretty difficult for him to accept the tribute _and_ fight them at the same time. So, unusually, Merlin had left it at that.

Sir Gwaine pushed his hair back and grinned widely at him. Having spoken to Merlin earlier and told him that the knights were looking forward to entertaining him, it seemed that Merlin didn't want to let them down by offering too little enthusiasm in return. If he could have waved a flag for them, he would have done. Indeed, it was only due to Arthur banning him from bringing a flag down with him that he had been stopped.

Arthur stood up next to make his speech. Merlin watched him with a mild envy. His heart started to pound as he listened to the words. It wasn't that the Prince was saying anything particularly special; he'd probably heard what he was saying at least four times over breakfast as he had practiced. It was more that Arthur had asked him to make a speech of his own as Prince-Consort that had him worried. He didn't quite know what to say. He hadn't known what to say all morning.

Sooner than he would have liked, Arthur finished and handed the crowd over to him.

Merlin stood up and bit his lower lip nervously. Just what _did_ you say when everybody was looking expectantly at you. He wrung his hands, opened his mouth and went for it.

"Are we all looking forward to the joust?" he shouted.

Uther groaned quietly and Arthur's jaw momentarily dropped. This was not the normal style of speech that royalty made.

The crowds cheered wildly, amused at actually being asked their opinion.

"These strong knights have defended our realm all year!" shouted Merlin, gesturing at them. "I think that we owe them our thanks."

Another loud cheer erupted together with loud clapping and at least some of the knights tried to hide their slight embarrassment. After all, they thought, they were just doing their duties.

"I guess..." continued Merlin as the noise died down enough for him to be heard again. "Well... no. I _know_ I'm not good at speeches. I leave that to the likes of your fine King and Prince. But I would like to take a moment to personally thank each of you," – he glanced at each of the knights in turn – "for all that you have done for Arthur and I personally this year. You have faced Morgana on more than one occasion and have never failed to show your courage and bravery in spite of her. She is the main enemy that this land has, and we all sleep better in our beds knowing that we have you fine men ready to defend that peace and safety.

"Today is your tribute to your leader, our fine Prince Arthur. You allow the good people of this land to be present as a mark of respect to the openness and spirit of good will in this Kingdom. Long may that continue."

The knights as one were smiling widely at him. It was fair to say that a speech of this type had probably never been given before, and may not be again if Merlin allowed Arthur to teach him public speech, but for now, it was worth listening to. Their grin grew even greater as Merlin bowed to them.

Once he had straightened up again, he said, "It now gives me great pleasure to hand you all back to King Uther so that the tournament can begin."

He sat down to a round of applause as Uther took centre stage again.

"Well done," whispered Arthur in his ear. "Maybe a little short, but to the point. I think that it was a first speech that will be remembered."

"Do you really think so?" asked Merlin.

"Oh yes," replied Arthur. "I don't ever recall a speech being given before where the speaker's breeches were untied."

Merlin looked down and blushed. He quickly re-tied the knot in the front.

"But seriously," continued Arthur, smiling kindly at him, "you did well. Now, let's sit back and relax. We don't have to do anything more until we give the prizes out."

The first knights, Sir Gwaine and Sir Elyan, trotted out into the ring and proceeded to opposite ends where they turned and faced one another.

"This should be interesting," whispered Arthur. "Gwaine hates getting his hair messed up. I wonder if he'll duck out early to get out of that helmet?"

"Would he?" asked Merlin.

"You never know with Gwaine," mused Arthur as the two knights galloped towards one another. "He's great in battle, but this is friendly horseplay. He might not worry about his reputation as much."

There was a loud crash as Gwaine's lance struck Elyan in the chest and knocked him from the horse. It was followed by a round of applause as Gwaine cantered to the end of the ring and took his helmet off, shaking his hair out as he did so.

"If he can do that every time he beats his opponent," replied Merlin, "he might not quit so easily."

"Yes, I suppose that move would make a few women go weak at the knees."

"Never mind the women," replied Merlin. "He's having an interesting effect on mine."

Arthur laughed as Elyan walked over to Gwaine and clapped him on the knee in a friendly gesture of congratulations before making his way over to the Royal Stand. He bowed to Uther, Arthur and Merlin, who saluted him happily in return. It wasn't protocol, but as he hadn't been briefed about what to do and not to do beforehand, he felt that he could make it up as he went along to some degree.

Prince Arthur reached behind him and handed a present from the pile down to him.

"Happy Yule, Elyan," he said as the Knight took it. "There's something in there for Gwen too."

Elyan thanked him, bowed again and retired from the ring. After a few moments, Sir Leon entered to much applause.

The tournament went on in much the same way for several hours. Sir Leon proved particularly difficult to dislodge from his horse, and it was only with great difficulty near the end that Sir Percival finally managed it. Even that, Merlin suspected, was more by luck and tiredness than judgement.

The tournament closed with Sir Percival being hailed victor. He looked exceptionally proud of himself as he came forward to receive his gift to the rapturous applause of the crowd.

Once Uther and Arthur had both made their closing speeches, the tournament ended as Arthur and Merlin left arm-in-arm to join their knights for a private drink in the Great Hall.

It had been, Merlin mused as they walked along the corridors, a good morning and one that he would like to see repeated with a magical twist to it in the future.

"Could we hold something like that for my kind when you become King?" he asked Arthur as they stopped outside the door to the Great Hall.

"Merlin, we'd have no tournament ring left if that ever happened," replied Arthur.

"There are ways around that."

Arthur appeared to consider the idea.

"I won't make a promise now," he replied eventually. "Let's just say that I will consider it closely."

Merlin smiled. He couldn't have asked for more than that while King Uther was alive. They entered the Great Hall to a loud cheer from the knights. As was customary, once inside, Arthur barred the door. This celebration was for him, Merlin and his knights only.


	12. Chapter 12

**Day 12:**

"Can I beat them?"

"No, Merlin."

"Awww... please?"

Arthur threw his hands into the air in despair. The drums had arrived as a present from Queen Annis that morning and Merlin had been itching to get his hands on them ever since he had first laid eyes on them.

"You don't know _how_ to play them."

"Nor do you," he insisted.

"Yes, but since I saw them first, I... I have had more experience of not being experienced than you have. I've not known how to play them for longer."

He sat back with a smile on his lips that declared to the world that his logic could not be argued with.

"Which only means that you're a very slow learner compared to me. I've had less experience of not being experienced, which means I haven't been ignorant of musical instruments for as long."

Except, perhaps, by Merlin, thought Arthur.

"Ok, I'll do you a deal," replied Arthur. "If you can play all twelve of them at once, I will let you play them."

"But that's not fair!"

"You get bonus points if you can make up and sing a tune to go with it. But, if you fail, you'll be tied to the bed with the new straps and tickled within an inch of your life. Do we have a deal?"

Merlin considered for a moment as Arthur sat in his chair, smiling smugly.

"I... I think... Yes," replied Merlin, causing Arthur's jaw to drop in astonishment. "Yes, I think we have a deal. But I'm not going to try until this evening. I need to practice."

"Are you sure, Merlin?" pressed Arthur. "I'm a pretty good tickler, you know."

"As am I," replied Merlin. "Which is why, if I manage it, _you_ will be the one howling on the bed. Do we have a deal?"

"Yeah, of course!" exclaimed Arthur. "You're never going to win it. It's a safe bet. You're as good as breathless, Merlin."

"Great," replied Merlin with a wide grin. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and practice."

Arthur allowed him to go and got started on some last moment paperwork. Yuletide Day was tomorrow, the end of the traditional gift-giving Twelve Days that led up to it and the one day of it all which would be reserved officially and solely for him and Merlin to eat, drink, celebrate and relax in before going to see friends in the evening. He found himself planning his victory in his head.

What would be best to do when Merlin failed? Which position did he want him in? How did he want to tie him up? What to? When? How long would he torment him for? His mind wandered into a world of its own as he absent-mindedly signed the papers, not really paying much attention to the detail of them.

The day seemed to pass in a flash and, as the sun set, Merlin entered Arthur's bedroom. The Prince looked up from his desk expectantly and set the quill, inkpot and paperwork aside. Merlin bowed. Technically, Arthur thought, he needn't any more given his new rank, but some habits die hard.

No, he corrected himself in his head, in Merlin's case, some habits started late. He'd only started bowing at the exact moment he got his new title, which conveyed on him the privilege of _not_ having to bow to Arthur. Trust Merlin.

"My Prince," said Merlin, straightening up again.

"You don't have to do that any more," replied Arthur, somewhat irritably.

"I know," replied Merlin. "That's why I do."

"So, let me get this straight," said Arthur, getting up to walk over to him. "You didn't used to bow when you had to in order to annoy the hell out of me. You now bow when you don't have to in order to do the same?"

"Not wholly," replied Merlin with a grin, "but it's a useful side-effect."

"Useful?" asked Arthur. "How could that annoying habit possibly be useful?"

"It's distracted you from what's happening to the drums," replied Merlin, grinning.

Arthur spun on his heels and rolled his eyes. All twelve drums had lined themselves up neatly of their own accord, waiting to be played.

"Are you going to use _magic_ to win this?" asked Arthur, slightly indignantly.

"I can't see another way," replied Merlin with a grin. "Besides, you didn't expressly forbid it. You can't change our deal now... unless, that is, you're too chicken to go through with it and you want to lie on the bed now..."

Arthur laughed out loud.

"No way, Merlin," he replied. "Nice try, but there's still a chance that you could fail. You haven't even started to play yet, let alone sing. I trust that you worked out a song that you were going to play?"

"I did even better," replied Merlin, wandering over to stand next to the leftmost drum. "I wrote a little one of my own."

"But how am I going to know if the words are right and it is sung without mistakes?" asked Arthur. "It's not exactly fair, is it?"

"Oh, you'll know," replied Merlin, smiling at him. "I'm certain of it."

Arthur stared at him for a few moments as Merlin readied himself.

"Alright then," he said, gesturing a hand at Merlin. "Show me what you've got."

Merlin took a deep breath and concentrated hard. This was going to be difficult and, damn him, Prince Arthur had guessed correctly when he'd said that the challenge wasn't won yet. In Merlin's mind, it had only just started.

"_Pere Angue Emrys Divisa_," he intoned.

His eyes flashed golden and he stepped sideways. A copy of himself was left standing on the spot that he had previously occupied. Arthur gasped as Merlin repeated the incantation another ten times until eleven copies of himself, plus the original, stood there, each in front of a drum.

As Merlin bent down, all of the clones copied him. His brow began to sweat with the effort of maintaining the spell and picking up twelve drums at once. The clones were extensions of his magic, not of himself. He still had to bear all the weight of the instruments for all of them, and that, he discovered, was not as easy as he had hoped it would be.

"Struggling?" asked Arthur with a small grin as the line of Merlins stumbled a little before they simultaneously recovered.

"A little," confessed Merlin.

"Give up?" asked Arthur, dangling the restraints from his fingertip.

"You wish," replied Merlin, summoning his strength and starting a simple rhythm on the drums.

At first only two drums played as Merlin got used to the feel of it, but after each repetition of the rhythm he added another drum until all twelve were being played. He breathed in.

"_On the First day of Yuletide, the gift given to we: Prince Arthur in a big, old, oak tree_," he started.

Arthur's amusement and awe grew as Merlin repeated the line and added another gift for day two. On the last verse, breathless and almost at the point of collapsing from the effort, even Arthur joined in as they sang:

"_On the Twelfth Day of Yuletide, the gifts given to we: Twelve Merlins drumming; Eleven Knights a-fighting; Ten attempts at dancing; Nine Lords a-leaping; Eight leather pouch thongs; Seven swans all swimming; Six-donkey carting; Five words to sing. Four calling words; Three quill pens; Two purple gloves and Prince Arthur in a big, old oak tree!"_

Arthur applauded loudly as Merlin put the drums down, bowed deeply and cancelled the cloning spell. He flopped down into a chair, utterly breathless as Arthur came and sat on the arm, treating him to a huge kiss.

"Well done!" he exclaimed as they embraced. "I really didn't think that you would be able to manage it."

"I'm full of surprises," replied Merlin with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Now, about your forfeit..."

He moved his hand so quickly that Arthur barely had time to reply before finding himself floating horizontally in mid air with both arms outstretched, facing his favourite sorcerer. He laughed nervously as Merlin stood up. Hovering at Merlin's head height, it was easy for Merlin to kiss him deeply.

"Don't worry," whispered Merlin, stroking the Prince's cheek tenderly. "You'll be pleased to know that I told the guards not to interrupt us, no matter how much commotion they hear."

Arthur went slightly pale at the news as Merlin removed his top. With a flash of his eyes, Arthur descended into an uncontrollable fit of spasms and giggles as hundreds of invisible fingers expertly attacked every ticklish spot he had. He thrashed around in mid-air, unable to escape the torment as Merlin sat down in the chair and hooked one leg over it, enjoying his Prince's cries and struggles. He unknotted the front of his trousers and took out his stiff manhood, which he slowly began to play with.

As Arthur tried to focus on him through tears of laughter, a wicked grin came onto Merlin's lips.

"Some advice, my dearest Prince," he said in amusement as Arthur stiffened and then contorted again in a fresh wave of hysterics as the fingers found his bare feet and focussed only on their soles. "Never challenge a powerful sorcerer, for we are sneaky and quick to tickle."

It was a lesson that would stick with Arthur for a very, very long time afterwards.


End file.
